


hearts combined like a neutron star collision

by JanePawsten



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Aliens (AKA Valleans) came to rescue the leftover humans and, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Catra is human and an artist, Earth was destroyed in a war, F/F, I Don't Even Know, Slow Burn, WIP, and yes - Ma is Shadow Weaver, catradora, i think that's all, meanwhile Adora is a very important Vallean, oops now you have to work for us!, updates every friday!, which lead us to, yet very socially awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanePawsten/pseuds/JanePawsten
Summary: After Earth's extinction, humans were forced to move to a new planet, Vallea IX. Sixty years passed and human beings had to learn to live with the Valleans, creating a drastic hierarchy in between the races.Catra remembers feeling lost since she was a child, with a painful fury caged inside her chest and an affection for Earth that was considered ''too exaggerated'' by others, taking into account that she was not even born when the planet was destroyed. Adora is too used to all the power she has ever had in her own hands to even consider getting involved with anyone - especially if it's a human.When neutron stars collide, it is like two dead stars coming together and causing an event so powerful that it is able to mess with gravitational waves and create tons of electricity and light. Catra and Adora didn't know it yet, but they were destined to collide.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 78
Kudos: 141





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. I’m not trying to discuss or convince anyone of the ethics of buying people, Earth’s politics or any polemical topic that might appear. Even though I have very strong opinions about the topics above, the opinions here are from the characters and I may or may not be in accord with them. I’m not trying to harm the characters' images in any way, so, remembering again: this is fiction. Also, I’m sorry if there is any major error about the description of space and its ramifications. Title is from 'Neutron Star Collision (Love is Forever)' by Muse.
> 
> So! This is something I've been working on for a few years and hopefully I'll finish it quickly. English isn't my main language so don't hesitate to tell me if there are any mistakes :) I hope you like this story!

In her earliest childhood memories, Catra remembers her Ma's cryptic green eyes and pitch-black hair. She doesn't know exactly who she is, besides the fact that she doesn't belong on this planet. That is the only thing she knows for sure. She doesn't even know if Ma is her real mother, although Ma always knew what was best for Catra and her siblings - other Archetypes, like her. She also doesn't know if she's really related to them, but she prefers to think so. It's not like Catra could just ask about it, to be honest... 

Ma has prepared her and the others Archetypes during their entire lives and Catra knows that when the time comes, she will be sent to the Vallean family that bought her. Archetypes are sold to the Valleans at the age of ten and delivered when they reach human adulthood, with the promise of being perfectly functional beings. She has been trained to be owned by the First's eldest daughter and the few things Catra knows about the woman is that she has a huge reputation and that she never wanted to have an Archetype - but it is her family's tradition, so she just went with it to not have to deal with any more problems. Catra also knows that Valleans do not necessarily need us, humans: they are masters of technology and have robots of all kinds. But the only thing they don't have is the artistic ability and the ability to interpret art emotionally. 

That is why Catra needs to be perfect - because humans are only needed to create art and yet they can be discarded as easily as a broken device. Discarded archetypes are sent to the Machine - one more thing she can't say for sure what it is, except that it's a horrible place. And Catra rathers to not discover about it the worst way.

※

Despair, insanity and toxic air. It is what humans remember from the last Great War. Most of the humans who could be saved from the catastrophes either died from radiation or could not adapt to the atmosphere in Vallea IX. Those who survived became mere animals for breeding. Sixty years have passed and, although it is basically the life span of a human, it was nothing for the Valleans, who could live easily for centuries. The planet they gave humans is the ninth of thirteen that they own and, in a brief mention, nothing compared to the species of plants and animals that Catra read about in books from Earth, not to mention the complex climates and diverse cultures. Now there was almost nothing left, with the exception of a few specimens kept in the private zoos and botanical gardens of Vallea I, at the homes of the most powerful ones.

The point is - Catra's 20th birthday would be next week. She had suffered all the times that one of her siblings reached adulthood and had to go, leaving her to deal with the younger ones, who came into the house from time to time. Her life was not as bad as it seems: Catra used most of her time in training for her future owner, reading the list of books that the clan of the First ones considered important, doing series of physical activities, studying fine arts, music, theatre and all kinds of things pre-designated by the First clan. And in her spare time, Catra helped her Ma with the children and gossiped with her siblings. They were a too-large family, but they also were so immersed in their responsibilities and training that they really didn't have time to fight or, more importantly, ask questions. It was what it was.

And even though she understood that things were the way they were, she could not contain the feeling of grandness hidden in her chest, the anxiety to ask questions, to obtain more information, to simply know. It was bigger than her and that was exactly why Catra spent most of her time lost in thoughts, being forced to hear repressions from her Ma or worse, threats to be sent to the Machine.

Then she would just shut up and do her duties. Because she was a lucky one. Lucky because she was born beautiful, raised in one of the most respected Archetype training houses in Vallea and had been auctioned off to a powerful and influential family. She had to act accordingly, for being someone so privileged within a decaying human society.

Archetypes were used, as the name suggests, as an exemplar model of everything that involves beauty, delicacy and harmony. The training implied that they were made to be the perfect companion for the Valleans, almost custom made. Valleans had such a good lifestyle that it became tedious - just like the young bourgeoisie of the Romantic period on Earth. Archetypes could be used as models for display, as a company, as friends or as lovers - even if it was slightly frowned upon by Vallean society. It all depended on the level of boredom your owner was in.

The point is - Adora First has everything but boredom. And even though Catra knew so little about the woman, it was not necessary to study her life very deeply to realize how powerful and brilliant she was. Sometimes, Ma would come up with reports about some scientific award that First had won or a new media outlet, to show her how much she had to study just to be able to talk to someone like Adora. But it was clear that her Ma did not show the interviews where Adora vehemently stated that she did not see the need to have an Archetype, which was soon covered up by the rest of the First clan. Yet, Catra always found them, even if by accident.

She knew she had been purchased by mere convention and that was exactly what kept her apprehensive, being aware that the chances of being dumped into the Machine were much greater when one was not desired. Her beauty could have protected Catra from many things, but it certainly wouldn't protect her from Adora First.

''I cannot believe what I am seeing, Catra! In a week you will go to your owner's house and all you do is daydream the entire time.'' She heard her Ma, who was staring at Catra with those cold and censuring eyes of hers. ''How many more times will I have to explain that your owner is not a simple Vallean but one of the most influential…'' It was at that moment that Catra would lower her head and return to her daydreaming, knowing full well that the moment she heard the word machine, the speech would be coming to an end and she would have to pay attention again to what Ma said. ‘’… Honestly, this way you’ll beat the record of fastest human to be dumped on the Machine. You have everything to have a promising future, so act accordingly, Catra. ’'

‘’Yes, ma'am. ’’ She nodded as Ma retired, going to check the other Archetypes under her care. It turns out, Catra knew her Ma was right, but there was something inside her that said it all was so wrong, that not-so-subtle restlessness that only waned when she painted one of her canvas or played the piano. 

Out of curiosity, the musical instruments remained the same as those from Earth, without much modifications besides the colours and materials used - Valleans were unable to understand art. They didn't see music or paint with the same eyes as humans - or with the same passion - so a lot remained untouched. And that was the main mission of the Archetypes - to continue to produce art and to guarantee ways for the Valleans to understand it. Being music, literature, theatre, any Archetype that was capable of producing something beautiful was worthy of a Vallean's attention. Because they could not understand or see sense in producing art - something so worthless - but they were able to admire it for its beauty and technique. They were born perfectionists.

And it was precisely the art that connected Catra with Earth so much. A passion that began with the study of artistic movements and, when she realised, she had become a true enthusiast of the planet of origin of the human race. Catra knew that her only connection with the place was the fact that she was human, but that did not stop her from wishing that she had been born much earlier, in a period when disputes had not yet taken over the entire planet, when thousands of bodies were wiped out and minimised to mere "political conflicts." In a period when planet Earth hadn't been reduced to dust and radiation yet.

Although Vallea IX was a planet with the necessary conditions for life, it did not have what made the Earth, the Earth. Vallea had its species, its culture, its literature - of a technical-scientific genre -, but the constant absence of the feeling of belonging bothered her. Catra didn't know how it was possible to miss something she had never had, but that was one of the absurd things she felt and couldn't even begin to find an explanation.

So, yeah, in a week she would meet one of the most brilliant minds of all thirteen Valleas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank each one of you that used a bit of your time to read the prologue and specially, to those who commented. Thank you! <3

After giving each of the kids a kiss-goodbye and listening to yet another lecture from her Ma about proper etiquette, Catra was ready. Well, not necessarily ready, since she was currently a nervous wreck, but she knew it was as calm as she could be. She didn't have much to carry to her new residency, just her best clothes on her own body and a picture made especially for First. The Institute functioned as a type of community, so everything she had acquired there, had already belonged to others and, now, would be handed over to the younger ones. The painting was a portrait of Adora First herself, from a photo that Ma rescued from some newspaper she was present at. The archetype is not a big fan of painting portraits, but Ma had said that was Catra's best chance at impressing, so she grabbed it without a second thought. She took the chance because her Ma knew what she was doing, unlike her. Catra never quite knew what to do with herself. But she knew that the only way to calm that burning thing in her chest was by painting or composing. And that was what she did.   


The Valleans were not so different from humans - well, at least, from what she had seen in films produced on Earth, extraterrestrials were expected to be tiny greenish creatures or to have shiny fingertips. Actually, the few Valleans she saw in her life were enough to identify their general characteristics: they were taller than an average human and had elongated limbs, along with a slightly androgynous appearance; almost ethereal. In her biology studies, she found that internally, they were more different from humans than externally. To begin with, they had no tonsils or appendix and their organs were organized differently, although the functions were considerably the same. They had more cones and rods on their retinas than humans, in addition to vertical pupils, which made them see more light frequencies and have an easier time moving around in situations of almost-complete darkness. As if that wasn't enough, they were an extremely intelligent race.  


Rationality could be considered a gift for some, considering that the Valleas were extremely developed and wealthy, not to mention their technology. But, from Catra's point of view, they paid too high a price in exchange for their intelligence: art. Their logical ability ended up taking them to the point where their art was, as Wilde would say, superbly sterile and because of that, over the centuries, they lost their artistical abilities. Because there was no way to produce something they didn't understand. And, even though they could appreciate the arts for its aesthetics, for them, it was the equivalent of a flower: only a beautiful object for a swift contemplation.  


However, Catra saw beyond the beauty of flowers. She understood the magnitude of its beauty, designed to attract bees and other insects, generating fruit and guaranteeing the species' survival. Catra thought the same about art. A Vallean would never be able to understand the full emotional charge behind a song or a movie screen, but still, like any other rich society, they liked to spend their fortunes on things they considered useless. What was important was its aesthetic purport. In addition to the arts, they invested in sports.  
There was another class of humans besides Archetypes - the Sportskind. Catra did not understand very well how the division was done, but the Sportskind were created in the same way as the Archetypes: in institutes, training for their future owner and improving in sports. The difference was that the Valleans who invested in a Sportskind generally had more than one, to form teams. And they did not serve as companions, since they weren't expected to be smart or some sort of amenable company. Sportskinds were loved by many Valleans, who devoted their lives to betting on the possible statistical results of the games, as chance and luck were beyond their comprehension, too.  


She heard one of the children call her name and stopped losing herself in her own thoughts, immediately turning her face towards the sound. She saw Frosta staring at her with big brown eyes, a discreet bandage glued to her chin, probably from some dangerous stunt she pulled.  


"Where's your owner?" She repeated the question. ''Our Ma promised that I could stay down here with you to see a Vallean for the first time! I don't like to be lied to.'' After speaking, she crossed her arms and furrowed her brows, thinking. ''And you know that the next person to come of age will be only next year! It will take a super looong time for me to have another opportunity.'' Catra laughed softly at the child's drama, nudging the band-aid on her chin with affection and muttering:  


''I'm going to miss you too, Frosta. '' The pout on Frosta's face widened and she uncrossed her arms to give Catra a tight hug.  


''Be careful not to wrinkle your clothes, Catra. '' They heard Ma say, her voice coming from somewhere behind them. Frosta gave Catra one last squeeze before letting go, looking at the time on the digital wall clock. Ma walked over to Catra, smoothing out her clothes once more and fixing her unruly hair. Catra followed Frosta's gaze towards the clock and realized that Adora First was late. She took a deep breath, trying to control the nervousness that bubbled up inside her stomach, but it wasn't likely that Adora, a Vallean, would be late. What were the chances that, after years of saying she saw no use in archetypes, she had finally overpowered her family's wants and managed to give up on having one?  


Gradually, Catra lost her patience: she gave up on keeping her spine straight - something she learned after years of scolding - and sank on the uncomfortable couch, that had gone weary after years of being there and different people sitting on it. Sometime later, one of the kids climbed on her leg to play and she knew that any chance of continuing to look impeccable was ruined at that moment. When it finally got dark outside, Catra no longer had any hope that Adora would show up and was cuddling with two of the newest toddlers at the Institute, children so small and helpless in a world that didn't belong to them, that she didn't think twice about putting them in under her care.  


As there was no longer any expectation that Adora would appear, Catra could hear the nervous tapping of her Ma's long nails on the counter, that terrifying silence in the house as if someone had died, or worse, as if any loud noise would send Catra straight to some type of irreversible perturbation. She was not like that, the kind of person who made others walk on eggshells, but that situation was something that had never happened before at the Institute and the younger ones didn't know how to react without Ma's assertive and domineering presence telling them what to do.  


Until she appeared. Adora didn't ring the doorbell, she just knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer. And when Ma opened the door and that being dressed in black from head to toe entered, Catra understood what her Ma meant in all these years. Because, no matter how much she studied or all of her self-assurance that she was, indeed, skilled, she felt overwhelmed by Adora First. And she hadn't even said a word yet.  


It turns out - she was all Catra would never be. And not only in the denotative sense: Adora carried within her that noble aura that important and successful people always carry, which is capable of making anyone feel like obeying. And Catra, Catra felt like she was just a silly girl close to that woman. She, in her newly-completed twenty years, who did not know much about the planet she lived on, but could talk for hours and hours about a planet that now was nothing but radioactive dust. Self-awareness encompassed Catra, making her touch her own hair and hope it didn't appear to be in such a chaotic state as she knew it was.   


And at that very moment, she felt anger. She felt anger because things shouldn't be like this. She should not belittle herself for a being she didn't even know, a being that had been late for hours and did not utter a single word to apologize. She felt anger because she also didn't want to be here, on this planet, where the maximum she had seen were the decorated walls of an Institute and its well-kept and sterile neighbourhood. But even then, at her angriest moment, she did what she was expected to do:

''Good evening, Ms First. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. '' She greeted, taking the children out of her lap and standing up, opening her most charming smile. She was aware of her wrinkled clothes, her worn appearance after waiting for hours, but anger had replaced her nervousness from earlier and - well, if Adora wanted her to be spotless, she should have shown up at the agreed time. Adora attempted at an awkward smile, then started to look around for the things Catra would take with herself. Taking the packaged painting that she was supposed to give to Adora and hugged it against her body one last time. ''For you, miss. '' She held out the painting that Adora took and placed under her arm, without even opening the brown paper package.

"Is that all?" She asked and Catra nodded. Then, Adora turned and walked out of the house. Catra looked at her Ma, who looked as confused as she was. After a while, the Vallean returned and looked at each person in that room, with a confused frown: ''Aren't you coming?’’ 

Startled, Catra nodded in a hurry and gave a final nod to everyone; afraid that if she delayed more, First would leave again and this time, she would not return. Catra didn't understand much about the gentlewoman she had just met, but she felt an immediate dislike for her silence. The human allowed herself to be directed to the car so that they could travel to Vallea I. Even though it was her first interplanetary trip, the main focus of Catra's nervousness was still that individual being sitting next to her. And, on the way to the other planet, after all her failed attempts to bring up a subject, she concluded that either Adora felt too superior to even consider talking to a human or had the social skills of a door.

When they arrived at the house, Adora put her hand inside a type of reader and the entire residence lit up, with the door opening and a female voice and slightly robotized saying  _ good evening, welcome back _ . Catra blinked twice, astonished. Despite being aware of all the technology held by the Valleans, she was still surprised. Adora had just entered and was already clicking effusively on different digital displays, which accompanied her around the house. Before disappearing down the hall, entertained by whatever she was doing, she turned to Catra and stared at her, frowning, as if she were a being from another world. Which, well, Catra was. After looking at her like that for a while, Adora finally said, in that slow, flat way, as if every word said was an inconvenience:

"Be welcome, kid." And disappeared into the hall. However, Catra couldn't quite define how frustrated she was with Adora and her regular three-word sentences. Any newcomer to the Institute would know how to form more complete sentences than that woman. And you know, they were children from four to six years old.

She gave herself the permission of doing what Adora did not: introducing the house to herself. As she walked, fiddling with things in the kitchen, playing with the buttons scattered on the walls to discover their functions and hoping none of them was meant to explode something, she decided to go back to the living room and get in touch with that thing from earlier. 

’’ … Hi?''

'' _ Hello, K9165M. I have been waiting for your arrival. _ '' The same robotic voice from before said and Catra noticed a shiver running down her spine at the mention of her birth name, feeling the letters and numbers marked in black at the back of her neck warming up, as she remembered of their existence. ' _ 'I am Light Hope, the virtual assistant developed by First & Co to make your life easier. But first, I need to ask you a few questions. Are you willing to respond now or do you want to delay it for another moment?'' _

"N-now, I think."

'' _ What is your treatment preference, K9165M?'' _

''Catra, just Catra... How do you know my birth name?''

'' _ All of your data was added to my system when you were bought. Can you put your hand on the reader so I can register your fingerprints, please? _ '' A blue reader lit up and she fitted her hand there, not even needing to wait more than a few seconds before it turned green and Light Hope answered: ' _ 'Done. Can I allow facial recognition? _ ’’ 

"Y-yes?''

_ ''Do you give me permission to collect and gather information about your preferences according to your individual needs? ’’ _

"I do."

_ ''Registration is done, Ms Catra. If, at any time, you want to disable or change any of the functions, just request. Any questions? _ ''

"Where is my room, please?"

' _ 'I'll take you there _ ,'' Light Hope replied, her visors lighting up all the way, indicating the path. Like the rest of the house, Catra's room looked just as dull and impersonal as the rest, with white furniture, white sheets, white curtains. She opened the wardrobe, seeing it empty and sighed. Catra walked to the attached bathroom, finding a packaged toothbrush. At least that. After brushing her teeth, she ventured to ask Light Hope if she knew if Adora had bought her clothes, but the assistant informed her that she had forgotten. She tried to ask more questions about Adora, but she couldn't think of anything worth asking, so she released the buttons of her pants and heard Light Hope ask if Catra wanted her bed to be heated before she went to bed. She denied, throwing himself into that icy softness. And then, she was struck by the nervousness of being in an unknown place, with a complete stranger, having the freedom to do whatever Adora wanted to do with her. She couldn't sleep, even though that was the most comfortable bed she had ever laid.

When she judged that enough hours had passed, she got up to find that Adora was already on her feet, dressed in black from head to toe and sitting at the living room table while being focused on listening something that an electronic voice informed her - it wasn't the same as last night, so Catra guessed that this must be her professional assistant. Catra knew that First & Co was practically an empire - they were responsible for creating the Impressions which, in short, had been considered the greatest invention made in the Valleas in the last three centuries. Walking in silent steps, she felt a persistent stare at her back and looked behind, seeing Adora staring at her clothes from the previous day, with a frown -  looking like she realized she hadn't arranged anything for Catra to wear besides what she had brought on her body.  And the moment that that undecipherable creature got up and started to walk towards her, Catra felt her heart pick up and ended up holding her breath, afraid to say something silly. Because, if she already thought Adora was tall, now that she was at her side, looking at Catra from above, she felt like those Hobbit-y beings from the books she read.

Then, Adora opened her mouth, instantly frowning as if she was asking for help to form the words and, frustrated, she reached out and, after holding the hand in the air for a few seconds, pulled the collar of Catra's shirt, reading the label stamped on the fabric.

''Good morning for you too, '' Catra mumbled, which Adora responded by blinking a few times.

''Oh... Good morning. '' And, realizing what she had just done, Adora stared at Catra again, blinking a few times before calling Light Hope and ordering new clothes. To someone who spoke so little, she seemed quite at ease with the robot. Catra assumed, then, that Adora simply did not want to communicate with her. And before she could feel inferior because of that, she clenched her fists, trying to control her own frustration. Because Catra wished as much as Adora wished not to be there, in that situation that she had no choice. First seemed to have finished what she was doing, as a countdown of three minutes and twenty seconds appeared on the screen. Adora looked at Catra, clearly uncomfortable with something, and started to say: '' I bought clothes. Now, I have to go... '' She looked at the watch on her wrist and at the floor, avoiding eye contact with Catra.

_ Incredible _ , now Catra was no longer worthy of Adora's gaze. Taking a deep breath and controlling the urge to roll her eyes, she forced a smile and thanked Adora for the favour.

''When you have time... You can buy more. Everything you like. '' She seemed to spend some time fighting her arrogance before looking Catra in the eye and she knew it was much easier to dislike that woman without having to be under the stare of those disconcerting blue eyes. Because Adora had that look that seemed to be able to discover every miserable secret that Catra hid inside her and, along with the aura that already made Catra uneasy, she felt the urgency to look away and try to hide the shame that was manifesting itself in the form of a blush on her face and neck.

Catra heard the counter reset and then the doorbell rang.

''Your order has arrived, '' Light Hope announced and Adora left where she was in order to retrieve the box, staring at Catra for a few seconds as if Adora expected her to develop some form of telepathy. She turned the box over in her hands, reading the contents outside and pointing one of the signs for Catra, before giving her the box.  _ Returns and exchanges within 50 days. _

"In case you don't like it," Adora explained. Catra nodded and thanked her again, before Adora looked at her watch and shook her head, indicating that she was about to leave. Catra watched in silence as Adora gathered her things and walked to the door and, in a last-second thing, Catra remembered that she should be polite:

"Have a good day at work!" Catra said when she was leaving. Adora seemed surprised by her gentleness, turning to look at her and Catra could have sworn that the minimal and almost imperceptible movement on her lips was an attempt at a smile. Well, at least now she knew First's face wasn't made of marble.

When she left, Catra realized that she was alone. She was alone for the first time in her life. No tasks to do, no one to talk to, not a single sound. This time, it wasn't the loss of one of her sisters or brothers she would have to lament. It was her own, she was the one that left the Institute now. And she would never see her Ma again or any of the Archetypes and even if she had gone through constant losses her entire life... This was her life from now on. This house was bigger than the one she used to live with many more people but now she was here. At this massive, silent house. She felt her hands tremble with the realisation that the world as she knew was completely changed. Now it was made of electronic surfaces and short sentences. 

And, as she closed her fists and held them against her body, she felt fury again. Nothing in her life was the way it was supposed to be and there was nothing she could do about it. Catra never really had a choice. She was stuck on another planet that she still couldn't call home even though she had been born there and, from the beginning, her whole life had been decided and any misconduct would result in a severe consequence. And yet, she had to go with the flow, or she would drown. And as scary as living in this new, frigid world could be, any other option sounded way scarier. She felt her finger-joints hurt from how hard she was pressing them and opened her hands, trying to calm down. Being angry wouldn't help her with anything. It never did and it wouldn't start now. She tried to focus on her breathing the way her Ma taught her, ignoring her rabbiting heart and the angry thing screaming inside her ribcage. She would calm down and then she would do all the things that were expected from her. And hope it was enough. 

She stared at the box on the counter and decided it was a good start, concentrating her energies on tearing down the package, a bit anxious to find out what Adora had bought for her, knowing it would be the first time in her life she was given something. Even if they were all in black and as bland as one could imagine. Either way, she should not complain. They were the first clothes she had in her life that weren't weary or mended over and over again. And even if they didn't look like anything she saw in old fashion magazines from Earth, they were practical and discreet, which was exactly what she needed. No grand wishes would be granted for Catra because she was still as disposable as her old clothing was, even if it was hard for her to accept it.

She was disposable and she depended on her art if she wanted to have any use or distinction. It was the closest from independence she would ever have, the biggest mark she could leave behind. Her Ma had always remembered her that she was discardable. But she knew that Ma only did this because she wanted Catra's to be good. All Ma ever did was because she wanted her best and Catra should be grateful for that.

Eventually, Catra calmed down and ended up asking Light Hope to show her the book catalogue that Adora owned and watched all the titles on one of the screens and Catra didn't need to read more than a few titles to know that they were all technical-scientific books. Creasing her brows, she started to fuss with the screen, knowing damn-well that the Valleans had all the literature they wanted available and it didn't take her long to figure out how it worked, and within minutes, a little capsule emerged from a compartment on the wall. She knew that those capsules were responsible for First & Co's initial success, years ago, and that Adora's recent invention had propelled the company to stratospheric levels, almost unimaginable. 

She took the metal capsule on her hands, asking Light Hope where she could find an available reader, which was a device similar to what the Terrans would call glasses. After finding it and inserting the capsule into the small opening, she laid down on the sofa, knowing that it would be quite a read. Catra had never read a physical book, not like the ones she saw in movies from Earth, with pages made of cellulose and coloured hardcovers. She only knew capsules, wondering what it would be like to feel the texture of the paper against her fingers, the weight of the pages in your hands, what it would be like to read a book like that, if she would enjoy reading in that odd way. Even finding terrestrial literature was difficult - the Valleans gave a greater value on post-Earth literature, produced by humans after the War, written in one of the Valleas. But now and then Catra was lucky to find some. 

Aside from strictly academic literature, she was a big fan of all kinds of books, even post-Earth, however, her love for the extinct planet sometimes overlapped with any other type of reading and she could do nothing but give in to wonders that were the terrestrial literary movements, getting lost in her own little space, where she felt like she belonged.

She placed the device on her face, ready to enter the state of torpor and semi-unconsciousness that were her old acquaintances, turning her off from everything else. She suffered some side effects from that kind of reading - like the tendency to forget to eat and go to the bathroom for hours at a time - but it was her only alternative if she wanted to keep on reading. It wasn't as if there were still physical books hanging around freely. Catra had already been warned that her tendency to block the world around her was not healthy, but when she was there, being lulled by the words, the human could only be thankful that one day, some author felt confident enough to share their words and ideas with others.

Because everything she knew about Earth was through the eyes of others and that never seemed to be enough, because it was never her eyes seeing things and judging them by herself. Therefore, she sought as many points of view and descriptions as possible, with the hopes that one day, she would be able to drown that fire burning inside her chest, which always asked for more to consume. She had been trying for twenty years and still had over two thousand years of terrestrial literature, cinema, arts and music to discover and study. She knew that she would never be able to do all that, especially with her constant need to be painting or composing something, however, a woman can dream, right? Even if it is with the radioactive dust that her ancestors once called home.

To be honest, sometimes she thinks that life is the constant combination of everything that is pathetic with doses of extreme sentimentalism. At other times, she's sure. 

Ah, yeah, reading too much poetry always leaves her way too melancholic .


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank each one of you for taking the time to read this. And once again, to thank you for the feedback! It has been amazing so far. I want to warn y'all that the past chapters and the first half of this one were written around 1-2 years ago, but after the second half, all was written quite recently, so you might notice a slight shift in writing. Also, (I'm full of words today, woohoo) I forgot to mention before, but if one of you feel like any trigger warnings need to be added, tell me! I've spent such a long time writing and rewriting this fanfiction that I somehow tend to look over the issues portrayed in here. TW for anxiety attack on this one. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter and see ya next friday! x

Adjusting to her new routine felt harder when the days dragged by like small eternities, especially because Catra couldn't paint or play. She had books and almost unlimited access to information, but there were moments she was too energetic to sit and read or even to feed herself on random knowledge about the Earth. At those times, she knew that the only way to calm herself would be to discount that restlessness on a blank canvas, as coloured paints corrupted what was once immaculate.

She didn't want to leave the Institute - no, that had been the place where Catra grew up, all her acquaintances lived there and mainly, her Ma lived there.

Her Ma, who always managed to discover all her secrets, but Catra knew she only did that to know what was going on in her mind and to keep her safe from dangerous thoughts. Ma was the only sense of direction Catra had in her life, saying what she should do and what she shouldn't, watching closely every activity she did. Even when Ma was irritated by Catra's being once again lost in thoughts, threatening her to the Machine, she knew that Ma only wanted the best for Catra. Because if the Valleans had high expectations for Catra, it meant Ma had them much higher. She used to say Catra was her perfect little thing. 

It was on one of those days that Catra was sitting on the couch, hugging her legs tightly and sinking her nails into her own flesh to contain the urge to scribble on the first surface she found, that Catra noticed Adora staring at her. And no, it wasn't that affectionate, careful look that she read about in novels. First was truly staring at Catra, Adora's body slightly turned towards her, definitely invading the human's personal space, with a frown and those disconcerting blue eyes that always seemed to try to decipher her. And Catra knew she should be polite - she could practically feel the burning in her arm from when her Ma used to pinch Catra to remind her to control her mouth - but that stare triggered all faculties responsible into making her restless.

Adora looked at her as if she didn't know what Catra was doing there, and for a while, she feared that the Vallean really had forgotten who she was - for someone who forgot to collect her own Archetype at the right time and to even buy clothes, she seemed to be quite capable of that too.

''Can I help?'' Catra asked, trying to keep any harshness out of her tone.

''You… are... _bored_! '' She blinked a few times, her vertical pupils contracting as if she was trying to understand how humans worked. More and more Catra's theory that Adora had the social skills of a door was getting stronger since she didn't even seem to understand the basic needs of an Archetype. All Catra needed was food, water, a place to sleep and art.

Art was the only constant in her life.

Adora started to pace back and forth, seemingly lost on what she should do now that she figured out the _hard_ _puzzle_ that human needs were. Feeling a bit of empathy, Catra decided to end her torment:

''I would feel very grateful if you could provide me with something to practice my art on. And it would solve the boredom problem, as well.'' She informed, making Adora stop and start nodding vehemently, as if she was a little kid, but make it almost 7 feet tall. It would be cute if it wasn't so weird. After a short while, she spurted into action and as she walked away, Catra could hear her conversation with her virtual assistance:

''Light Hope, why didn't you tell me that the human didn't have her art supplies?'' It was strange to hear Adora's usually flat voice hint at some kind of disturbance. 

'' _I did tell you, ms First. When the Archetype arrived and the day after, too.''_

''Show me.'' She asked and LH immediately replayed their conversations from days before and Catra, hiding on a corner, was stunned that the device could record conversations. She had never seen anything like this before. If a few moments ago she was finding it annoying that First was staring at her, now she was doing the same - and Adora couldn't complain because, as she _cleverly_ pointed out, the human was bored, unlike her, who probably had half a million things to solve. Apparently convinced that the virtual assistant was on the right in this one, Adora huffed and started walking again, saying as she walked: ''Catra, at least, follow me properly.'' 

Embarrassed for being caught and a bit disturbed after listening to her own name being addressed by Adora for the first time, she quickly walked until she was right behind First, curious about what was happening next, as Adora led her to one of the rooms that the human hadn't yet explored. 

She followed the Vallean into the room, completely white and unfurnished, except for a few boxes and packaged things. Looking a little further, Catra noticed that, against one of the walls, was the painting she painted for Adora. Noticing the curious look, First commented:

"It looks good."

"Thank you." Catra felt a bit lost with the sudden praise, even if it was as dry as bone. Adora nodded, seeming to take some time to absorb the words and then pointed to the boxes:

"They are yours." She opened one of the packages and Catra could see that it contained several blank canvases, packed with some material that wouldn't let them be damaged.

And even though she couldn't see herself, Catra knew that her eyes were shining and her smile bordered on the verge of crazy. She ran to open another box, seeing several containers of oil paint. 

"I should've told you before but I...'' Adora started saying but left it hanging. Catra suspected that the end of the phrase would be _I figured that, with all your snooping around, you would've found out by yourself._ Except Adora would find a way to shorten it. 

''It's alright. Thank you. These are really important to me. Thank you.'' She carefully clutched a bottle of gouache paint, shiny and new. Adora nodded a few times, indicating the entire room with one hand and implying that this was Catra's artistic space. She left without saying anything else. Catra found it strange that Adora didn't stay to see her painting, as her Ma warned her that it would be something expected from the Valleans. 

Catra shrugged, now having better priorities than trying to understand the mind of that weird extraterrestrial being and busied herself with unpacking everything, organizing it in the best possible way, or at least, the one that made more sense for her. Catra didn't even know what to do with all that. Just like with the clothing, it was the first time she put her hands on brand-new art supplies. 

Now that everything was organised and she could see it all more calmly, she started to wonder if she should've expressed more gratitude. She was so surprised that she would have access to all these things that at the time she didn't think properly, but now Catra was feeling queasiness making its way inside her chest. She should've shown more gratitude. Maybe that was why Adora didn't stay. She thought Catra was an ungrateful human. Her Ma always said that she had to be good because one bad human could ruin it all for all the others. 

She got up and searched for Adora, having Light Hope inform her that First had left the house as soon as she left the room. The uncomfortable feeling in her chest became something much bigger and made it hard to breathe as if it was pressing on her lungs. Maybe she would really break the record of fastest Archetype to be sent to the machine. 

She had to breathe. In and out, in and out. She thought of how she would hold a child in her arms in moments like these until she calmed down. She concentrated on remembering the soft skin against her own, the light breath tickling her neck, a small hand clutching a lock of her hair. She would focus on the kid's own breathing and try to synchronize hers, making an effort to fill in her senses with the different stimuli that weren't the running thoughts in her mind. Bit by bit, Catra felt her body calming down, with her heart slowing down as her breath became even and she started to become aware of her surroundings, the white surfaces, her bare feet on the cold floors, the low humming sound of some machine, one thing at a time. She knew she wouldn't feel completely relaxed until she had the opportunity to talk with Adora again, but now she felt like a minor buzzing was going through her mind, instead of electricity wires.

Catra walked to the art room again, opening the window and letting the light in. As she sat on the floor, admiring everything around her, the different bottles and items, she let it sink in: this was her life from now on. And it didn't feel as painful as days before. It was still scary, terrifying even, but now she had something good to focus on. She had paints, and she had infinite books, and she would make good use of them until Adora saw no use in her anymore.

※

When Adora arrived, later that day, Catra immediately ran to talk with her. She had to get it out of her chest.

''I need to talk with you!'' She blurted out, flushed and uneasy. 

''Ok?'' Adora said, her blue eyes scanning Catra to see if there was something wrong with her physically. Not that she would notice it right away. She had had a very sparse experience with human beings. 

''I would like to apologise for not having expressed it earlier but the truth is I am extremely grateful toward you for providing me with art items. And to say that I can offer any kind of art you might wish, so tell me if you have a request, please. Sorry. And thank you again.''

''No need to apologise.'' First replied, as she started touching one of the screens, plentiful characters being exhibited as she inserted a few more in. ''As for your art...'' She started saying, getting distracted by the numbers again. Catra had a feeling Adora could barely stand the sight of her even for a short conversation. ''Feel free.'' She completed, finally. 

Awestruck, Catra nodded. That wasn't what she had been prepared for. Archetypes were expected to follow art orders and to also expect their masters to want to fully experience the process of making a painting. 

She didn't know what to do with these words but, as she walked back to the room and stared at a white canvas, not having to do any type of art that was related to training for the first time, she smiled. Catra had no idea what she was going to paint or where to start but, somehow, in Adora's apparent indifference, she found freedom. 

Even if it was a specific kind of freedom and, even an unpredictable type of it, it was something else. Something unexpected. And she would make the best of it while she could have it. She had to convince herself the cup could be half full, otherwise, she would go mad. As she picked a charcoal pencil, she smiled. She could draw anything she wished to, with any technique and colours.

※

Turns out, it wasn't as fun as she'd initially thought. She had no idea what to do. Catra had so many options, that she had no idea where to start. She didn't know what she wanted. After so many years, what did she truly like to paint? She missed her Ma guiding her on what she should paint next. Even if she could give her twists here and there, the art she produced at the Institute always had a purpose.

After one more frustrated attempt, she let go of her pencil. She could try again the next day, hopefully, some sleep would help her with the sudden blank. As she slipped in bed, she noticed the heated blankets were already on, waiting for her. Technology was a bit spooky sometimes. 

Waking up the next day, Catra still didn't feel very genius. It wasn't as if she expected a big outburst of creativity during her sleep, but… ok. That was exactly what she was expecting. But today was a new day, still. Maybe reading a book would help her, or she could even try to ask Light Hope if she had any movies in her archives. She found Adora in the common room, with a punch of food pills on one of her hands as she typed with the other, slightly slower than her usual hands-flying-over-keyboard style.

''Good morning, ms. First.'' Catra greeted, as she opened the container and got a few pills for herself, trying not to be caught picking the red ones, her favourites. They didn't really have much of a taste (at least, not the way she saw it being described in books from Earth) but she thought the colour red tasted better. She knew she should be eating one of each colour for their nutrients but once in a while, she permitted herself to be reckless in subtle ways. Adora nodded, acknowledging her presence and looking just a bit frantic. And when Catra describes it as _just_ _a bit,_ she was not exaggerating. Apparently, Valleans weren't the masters of facial expressions and Catra always had to put way too much effort into understanding the minimal changes. Adora looked a bit fidgety as if she was fighting with whatever she was programming, giving side looks to Catra once in a while. As Catra ate her last pill and filled a cup with water, she saw First side-eyeing her one more time and gulping. 

''Did you… uh. Make art?'' She asked, frowning a bit. Was she mad at Catra? And, foremostly, was Adora trying to start a conversation? ''Was it fun?'' The human stared at Adora for long seconds before being able to formulate any response. 

''Eh… I didn't yet.'' Catra had to come up with a quick excuse because she was scared to admit she couldn't come up with anything. She didn't know the consequences it could have if Adora understood it as a malfunctioning Archetype. She knew damn well First wasn't crazy about having a human around. ''I felt like I should wait for daylight. It is better to paint. But I'm going to start right now!'' 

''Ah.'' Adora replied, hands halting on the keyboard for a second. ''Tell me… tell me if you need something.'' Oh, man. Catra was really confused with all the talking. 

''Thank you. I mean. I will tell you if I need something, but I think I have pretty much anything an Archetype could permit themself to wish for.'' At that, Adora snorted.

''Yeah, I bet you do.'' Right when Catra thought she was at the beginning of understanding that alien, Adora proved she was exceptionally wrong. What an unpredictable being. She didn't even get what Adora tried to imply, but she supposed it wasn't anything positive.

''I think I will go paint now.'' She said as First beckoned her head, apparently dismissing her. 

As Catra marched back to her art room, she grabbed her materials and began to paint the frustration out of her system. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a super, super full week and didn't have the time to go over this chapter as much as I would like to but I don't think there are any major grammar mistakes. This is honestly my favourite chapter from all the ones I've already written for this story. I hope you enjoy it!

The painting, of course, didn't look good.  _ It's still something, _ she tried to convince herself. Catra hoped Adora didn't request to have access to the emotional charge that was spread all over the canvas in quick, thick strokes. Not that Catra was allowed to deny it, but this one felt a bit too personal to share with someone else. The more she stared at it, the more she felt hot shame bubbling in. It was as if the painting was mocking her, standing in this completely white room with bright, angry colours. As if it was the 'living' proof of Catra's own failure, laughing at the fact that she couldn't come up with paintings anymore. As if years of expectations and training went to waste and... that possibility was too hurtful for her to deal when her entire life revolved around  _ this. _ Closing her eyes, she became aware of her hands trembling, thought about the strong grip of her mother on her hair, sick words being uttered in a low tone. The fear of never being enough.

Without a second thought, she fumbled with the back part of the canvas, feeling the part where the fabric was held together with staples and, in a furious whim, she carved her fingers in and pulled the thick cotton, using her other hand for stability. She watched as the fabric started to tear down, feeling her own angry tears rolling down. She didn't want anybody to see it. Even the personal things that she did for herself, didn't fully belong to herself. And nobody should see her failures. Now holding the fabric with both hands, she started to tear it in smaller pieces. As the ruined pieces fell down to her feet, the still-wet paint smeared in her hands and every surface it touched, she allowed herself a deep breath. 

At the Institute, a failed canvas would never go to waste. They would scrape off the excess oil paint layers and make something new over it. It wasn't because now she had access to multiple materials that she would start being careless. She didn't feel any better about it, the ruined painting didn't do anything to mend her broken pieces, not the way she read about in books – one more thing about literature that she discovered was all bullshit. Or maybe she was the one being too literal–. In destruction, she discovered she found no pleasures. While she cleaned her tears with the back of her hands, she started looking around, trying to think about what she would do with that pointless mess. 

That was when she heard the door opening and completely stopped on her tracks. As she saw Adora's head poking in to take a look at what was happening, she felt her heart accelerating, in opposition to how petrified she was on the outside. First looked directly at Catra's face, then her hands, then the mess on the floor, taking a long while to absorb everything in, seconds ticking like hours. Feeling like a kid caught pulling a puppy's tail, but a thousand times worse, the human just stayed there, waiting for whatever that was to come. Slowly, Adora retreated from the room and closed the door. Falling to her knees, Catra started to desperately gather all the mess left on the floor, feeling tears pooling in her eyes but too scared to let them roll down, making her best to see through the blur. She heard the door opening again, but didn't dare to look up, afraid she might start crying again. If Adora decided to dispose of her, Catra knew she was on her rights.

She saw with the corner of her eyes when Adora crouched next to her and stayed in silence for a while, while Catra was still trying to gather the mess with too-shaky hands. 

’’ … Catra?'' Adora asked with a hesitant voice. Accepting her fate, the human let everything fall back at the floor and looked up, meeting Adora's blue eyes. ''Can I?'' She asked, moving her hands to show something but Catra just closed her eyes and nodded, not wanting to see what would happen next.

She felt a soft, wet thing touching her cheekbones, in quick, rough dabs. She recognised the familiar smell of paint remover and, as she felt Adora's hand encircling her own wrist, with a too strong grip, but in no way meant to harm -as if Adora didn't know her own strength- she opened her eyes, allowing herself to watch closely as First cleaned her still-trembling palms and fingers. 

Catra wanted to say something, to tell Adora to not worry, that she would clean it all herself, but she felt as if, perhaps, the silence was what made that moment so peculiar. It was what kept Catra still, ignoring all her instincts to get up and run, to hide somewhere small. Maybe it was what was keeping Adora there, too. 

Adora released her wrist and held the other, just as firm as before, starting to clean it with the other side of the cloth. Catra didn't know why First was doing that, maybe it was for all the wrong reasons, but she finally allowed her tears to roll down, blinking fast. Adora looked at her, clearly lost on what to do but stayed silent, finishing to clean her hands. 

Now that First wasn't touching her anymore, Catra thought about how she was asked for permission before the Vallean touched her, and how that was, probably, one of the most respectful things that had ever been asked of her. Catra used her own shirt to clean her tears, looking up at First and finding a puzzled expression on her face. She knew she was probably looking like a mess, runny nose and all, but she hoped Adora knew how grateful she was.

''I'm gonna clean it all. I promise.'' 

''Don't,'' Adora replied, as she folded the cloth and got up, turning to leave the room. At the last minute, she stopped and looked again at Catra, still kneeled on the floor. ''I mean. It's your art room. Clean if you want to. But I don't mind if there are stains.'' She said, as she left and closed the door behind her. Alone again, Catra looked at her hands, bits of paint still stuck under and around her nails, then slowly looked at her surroundings. This was her art room. Gathering the pieces of fabric one more time, with care to not get her hands dirty again, she disposed of them and, looking at the white room, with one splash of colours at the floor, of all places, she felt a kind of settlement. 

She didn't know how she would feel about that stain in the future, but she decided to leave it there for now. As her first mark on that room, as a reminder of rough yet careful touches. Frustration giving in to bewilderment. 

As she undressed in the washing room, she faced her reflection in the mirror with a different kind of honesty. Her eyes, one blue and the other light brown, that her Ma liked to praise on how  _ rare  _ they were and she had a full, long hair always was all over the place. There were a lot of uncertainties in her life, unanswered questions and long lost dreams of a little bright-eyed girl and dealing with that was too hard sometimes, she was too much for herself to handle once in a while and at those moments, she felt like running outside in circles screaming like a madwoman. 

Catra felt the vapour hit her body, as she moved around to guarantee that she would be fully clean, touching the tattoo embedded at the back of her neck, as a constant reminder that things weren't the way she wanted them to be. And she would have to work her way around it. As her body was now being dried by a gush of air, she wondered what made Adora decide to help her earlier, instead of leaving her be. Instead of just sending her to the Machine, as Catra was sure was something she constantly thought of. 

She didn't have these answers and, as Catra walked around the house after her shower, trying to find Adora, but instead being met with a dull silence, she understood it all too well. This was one more thing meant to be left unsaid. 

Catra walked back to her art room, facing the stains on the floor, serving as her own allies and enemies now, placed a new canvas at the easel and started to paint the first thing she ever remembered painting in her life, when she was too short to even reach the easel, having to stand on a bench. She remembered having a hard time doing the shapes as she imagined them, mixing the paints in the correct colours, making things look proportional and neat. Now, she did all that without giving it much thought, reproducing the paint of the Institute itself with ease, with much more details than the version she did years ago, a sunlight-alike reflex on one of the sides of the tall house, children playing at the yard, nostalgia spread all over in every choice of colour, every little detail she added by memory. What used to be uncertain, retouched over and over again traces on her childhood, gave in to determined, clean strokes. And what an irony, thought Catra, that when she was a child, she felt so determined yet her art was so uncertain and that now, it was all the opposite. When she finished, she took a step back and absorbed it all in. She felt as if she could extend her arm and enter the painting, feel the warmth on her skin and hear the giggles and screams all around. 

She never really liked to paint realistic art, but what did she know about what she liked to paint? Now, looking at her painting, wrapped in longing, she couldn't deny her emotions. And maybe, through her own child-self eyes, she would find a way out of that confusion. Without all the fears and doubts, she would work her way through to find herself exposed, chest-open, in her own art. To make something and be able to say: this is me. 

As Catra finished cleaning her utensils, she looked at the window and discovered it was another day. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'd like to thank y'all again for all the support and to say that I'm not really sure if we're getting an update next Friday because I'm pretty busy as of now. But hopefully, I'll be able to make it happen! :)

Days passed by and both of them barely saw each other, Catra spending most of her time locked up in her art room and Adora busy with her work. They sometimes had awkward encounters at the corridors, exchanging short conversations and amenities, and, most of the time, Catra thought things were better this way. It meant less overthinking about things Adora said or did and less questioning herself. 

Growing up the way she did, she was used to dealing with all kinds of people, from the more talkative ones to quiet people, but she never found someone that was so closed up to the point Catra couldn't figure out anything unless Adora gave it in. But she never did. And as though the human tried to pretend she wasn't curious, once in a while she caught herself wondering what could First be hiding under the surface. If there was something to hide. Maybe her life was just all the robots and touch-screens. There was no way to know. 

But there were times Catra missed having someone to share her thoughts with. And she discovered in the worst way that Light Hope wasn't the best listener. (Seriously. Ranting to an Artificial Intelligence robot for hours and then being answered with:  _ I didn't get it, could you repeat? _ was probably her peak humiliation moment.)

Then she would keep to herself most of the time, dividing her attention in between the different art materials, lately being into pottery. She enjoyed getting her hands dirty as she modelled a ball of clay into a distinct shape, using her fingertips to apply pressure where it was needed and rescuing that long-lost ability from when she was a kid, back when she used to practice pottery with some of the older teens, that taught her how to properly handle them. Then came her 10th birthday, the First clan buying her and then sending a list to the Institute of arts they would like her to master. Then pottery and classic ballet classes gave in to oil painting and piano, and a lot of other priorities changed too. Catra doubted Adora even cared about these things. The list was probably just randomly picked. 

She was kinda glad Adora had bought art materials with such random criteria, exhibited only by those who didn't understand a thing about what they were buying, because that allowed her to retrieve the lost contact with some techniques and also to try some new things out. And there was also the chance Adora just asked for everything in stock. Catra wouldn't dismiss that possibility, seeing how detached the Vallean was. A loud knock on the door startled her, sending the vase she was carrying flying directly to the floor, now a deformed blob of clay. Huffing, she murmured a 'come in' while assessing the damage.

''Oh. Accident again?'' Adora asked as she entered the room. Catra looked up, trying to figure out if First was trying to humour the situation or just being a jerk.

''The knock startled me. And this happened.'' She answered, collecting the clay from the ground and sighing. This poor floor never stood a chance. 

''Shouldn’t I knock then? I thought this was what humans did before entering a room.'' 

''No, knocking is nice. I was just too concentrated. Do you want something?''

Sometimes being under Adora's stare was a bit uncomfortable. Catra wasn't used to getting all this fixed attention when she was speaking with someone, as if every word she said was being taken into consideration. Not to mention how Adora was way taller, so she was always looking at Catra from above. Both figurative and literally speaking. 

''No. My progenitor just said I should check on my human from time to time.''

''Your mother, you mean?'' 

’’ … Yes. That's what you humans call it. Thank you.'' She said and then, after a few seconds: ''just to check, are you breathing?''

''Pretty sure I am.'' Catra answered, an amused smile on her lips. 

''Nice.'' Adora answered, as she turned to leave. When the door closed, Catra started giggling. It was hard not to when Adora came up with these things. She had no idea what just happened. But when things like this happened, living here became easier. She knew she shouldn't find First's struggles so entertaining, but it was clear that the Vallean didn't know a thing about humans. (And Catra could seriously use that to her advantage one of these days.)

Working again at her vase, Catra felt a bit bummed because it would never look as nice as it did before. But it also accompanied a funny story now and, as she finished it again, Catra decided to leave one of the sides crooked, as a reminder of its fall and consecutively, its creation story. It was a nice thing to look at and smile, remembering why it was like that, even if it wasn't aesthetically perfect. Life changed and she was adjusting. 

As she left the art room and walked down the corridor, she realised a few boxes stacked on a corner that weren't there before. Curious as always, Catra got closer and read the label:  _ Impressions. _ She knew what it was. It was the device Adora built and that granted her multiple scientific trophies. And that guaranteed that her family would easily keep their fortune for quite a few centuries to come. Catra opened the box and started to read the information contained in a little booklet, trying to understand more of how it worked. She didn't have much contact with science and physics in her life, with the exception of all the sci-fi books she devoured through the years, so she really wanted to know more about this machine. The principal point of it was that it could make the Valleans feel art through their human's emotions, and that was exactly why Archetypes were so wanted. A constant flow of emotions could put even the strongest of the Valleans under a drunken ecstasy, leaving them on a daze for quite a few hours, depending on how strong said emotions were. A lot depended on the human, on what mood the art put them in, the colours, the technique, their interpretation of it. And sometimes it could have bad results. No one wanted an Archetype that sent you to the wrong path. 

Understanding Valleans' writing was a bit hard for Catra, especially because of the way they phrased things. She was too used to a literature that involved feelings, not these completely dry, objective pieces of information. And all the mentions to terms Catra never even read before… What on Earth is Serotonin? Neurotransmitters? _…_ _Help?_

Just as she was about to read the second page, the booklet was snatched from her hands. Catra looked up to find Adora standing there, a certain hostility bubbling under the surface. She looked at Catra in a way she never had before. It wasn't confusion, it wasn't nervousness, it was… for someone that felt it with such a frequency in her life, Catra took too long to understand that Adora was  _ furious _ . 

The next second, First shoved the booklet inside the open box and put it back at the pile with a loud thump, hands still hovering over it. Taking a deep breath, she took a while to look back at the human, as if she was thinking about a thousand reasons why she shouldn't get rid of this annoying, nosy human. Catra was sure that, this time, she had crossed a line she didn't even know existed.

''Just…  _ don't _ ,'' Adora said, looking calmer than she was five seconds ago. It was weird to see how Valleans had such deep control over their own emotions. ''I don't want to see you close to this stuff again.'' Her blue eyes still looked tempestuous, Catra noticed. She had to think carefully about what she would answer, so she could obtain the closest to an answer as possible, in her constant quest to find the pieces of the puzzle Adora was.

''Shouldn't you want me to use something you built? Something that gives you pride?''

''Pride is for fools,'' she answered, hands gripping the corners of the box. ''There's no contentment in shame.'' 

For as vague as her answer had been, it was enough for Catra. It gave her a lot to think about, with a strange déjà vu feeling sitting in her stomach. It was strange to see Adora as someone not proud of her work. It was too different from the idea Catra had of her, after all those years reading article after article of all her accomplishments. She couldn't imagine what it was like to be so recognised for something you weren't proud of. 

''Why did you build it, then?'' She tried to prod a bit more, knowing it would be probably fruitless as Adora looked at her with sombre eyes. 

''You ask too many questions for a human.'' First answered, fiddling a bit with the top of the box before letting it go, with a quick, exasperated sigh. 

''I just want to get to know the person I'm living with.'' Catra answered, trying too hard to not crumble and give Adora the answer she really wanted to give.

''But why?'' First asked, hands now hanging on the sides of her body. 

''Because when people share a space together they want to get to know each other. So they can have things in common and build some kind of bond together.''

’’ … I don't get it.''

''Because it is important to me, then.'' She huffed, a bit frustrated. 

''That is unexpected behaviour. I have to check my book.'' Adora answered as she turned and left. Catra stayed there a little longer, staring at the boxes she was supposed to not touch and asking herself a million questions, trying to put it together with all she already knew. She was getting tired of having to think twice before saying anything, of having to act tough all the time.

At the Institute they had their rules, Catra couldn't ask too much, just the way she couldn't do a lot of things. But she grew up with these rules, she knew how to play the game, how to get her way around, how to find things to entertain her when dealing with herself was too much. Here she had to discover the rules by making mistakes. And she didn't know which one of the mistakes would be the final one. 

And sometimes it kept her awake at night, thinking that Adora probably was already arranging things to let go of her. She literally had no reasons to still keep Catra around, a  _ curious _ human being, not when First stated many times she didn't even want one. And some nights, Catra couldn't sleep because that might be her last night in that house and then she would go somewhere she didn't even know the purpose of. And she couldn't live off miscommunication forever – or, damn it, let's be honest. There was barely any communication, to begin with. 

She would have to learn how to play Adora's game, in order to learn a way around her, just the way she did a million times before at the Institute. And Catra was damn good at it. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so, so deeply sorry for taking so long to update. December and January were kinda rough, to be honest, and I wasn't feeling like writing. I'm still at the middle of writing the next chapter, but I decided to post this one hoping it will pressure me into finishing the other chapter so I will be back at updating weekly. I hope there is still a few of you waiting for this! 
> 
> Lots of love and thank you so much to all that still want to give my story a chance! <3

It happened one day when she was quietly reading a book under the window. Catra heard loud noises, loud enough to take her away from her reading time – which was a hell of an achievement, to be honest – and disconnected her reading device to see what was happening. Hiding on a corner, she saw Adora talking with another Vallean, a bit shorter than her but way taller than Catra nevertheless. She was intrigued. Catra never thought she would see First communicating with another living being. 

She watched as the girl with bright purple hair talked and talked, while Adora only nodded as they both seemed to work on something at the screens. That girl really talked a lot, jeez. And was her hair moving by itself?

Catra tried to get a bit closer, to try and figure out what was up with the unknown girl's hair. And well, to try to listen to bits of their conversation, not gonna lie.  _ Great _ , they were talking mathematics. It was the first interaction she saw Adora having with someone and the only thing Catra would get from it was goddamned calculus. Apparently, after a while, they solved whatever they were trying to do, because the new girl jumped and screamed:

''See! I told you!'' She clapped her hands excitedly, her hair moving up and down like an excited puppy from movies. Ok. It definitely moved on command.  _ How? _ was the question at table now. Catra looked at the direction the girl was looking at and watched one of the big panel windows opening, not long after, a white piano entering with the help of robots. The piano landed with a loud thump, forcing both Catra and the purple-haired girl to make a pained expression. ''Maybe I miscalculated the landing. But I'll fix it for the next time!'' She said, already writing down new annotations on the screen. 

Adora crossed her arms and clicked her tongue, apparently not pleased at all with the new furniture. Or all the talking. Catra wasn't exactly sure of which one of these things would bother the Vallean more. 

The tall robotic arms that carried the piano inside retracted and entered the room, balling up to become round robots with four spider-like legs and a purple visor at their centre. If Catra had had a hard time adjusting to all the technology in Adora's house, touch-screens and AI everywhere, imagine her reaction seeing a real-life robot, not just a talking voice like Light Hope. What was she even doing in a house like this?!

''Good job, Emily!'' The girl's hair petted one of the robots. This was only getting weirder and weirder. ''Well, Adora, don't just stand there like a weirdo. Go get the human.'' 

''Yes, I-'' Adora huffed, just as she started to walk towards the corridor and saw Catra there, barely hidden behind a wall. Adora took a deep breath and looked at Catra as if she wanted to ask  _ seriously? _ but decided to retain from further commentary. ''Can you come here, please, Catra?'' She asked, a bit loud as if to pretend the human wasn't right there and she was just calling her over. 

Catra got the clue and walked down the corridor, fixing her hair shyly as she realised she was about to be introduced to another Vallean. She had no idea how this would go, but at least this one seemed to like to talk. As she finally entered the main room, the girl smiled and waved at her. 

''Hello, Earthly creature! Question: what size do you wear? I'm thinking about a new invention to prevent humans from...'' Her voice trailed off as she collected a measuring tape from one of the multiple pockets of her one-piece, starting to take measures of Catra and reciting them out loud to Emily, who probably was storing that information somewhere in her robot memory. ''Nice! I'll bring them here by the end of the week for you to try on.'' 

''Uh… I'll wait, then?'' She answered, not really sure about what she should be expecting. 

''Fine. And look!'' She pointed at the piano and something inside Catra's head finally clicked that there was a piano there for her to play, after all these days itching to play something. A piano! For her! Wait-

''Is that for me?'' She asked, a bit starstruck with it all.

''Do any of us look like we know how to figure that thing out?'' The girl said, before thinking a bit and deciding to come closer to take a better look at it. ''But I surely could find a use for some pieces right here...'' She reached out to open the piano cover, just as Adora’s hand grabbed her wrist.

''Entrapta.  _ No _ to destroying others' properties.'' She said, carefully removing her hand. ''Even in the name of science.'' 

''Catra, can I break down your piano to pieces to see if I can find something useful?'' She asked, looking at the human with bright eyes. Catra blushed under the stare, not knowing exactly what to answer. Could she even deny something to a Vallean? They both heard Adora clear her throat, staring angrily at Entrapta. ''What? Our raiser said I could try and ask before getting stuff from people.''

''Just get one for yourself and do whatever you want with it, Entrapta.'' Adora said, sternly. Catra looked from one to another, trying to picture pieces together.  _ Raiser? _

''Are you two… sisters?'' She asked, not intending for that to be said out loud. The two Valleans looked at her as if she had grown a third eye.

''What kind of human thing is this now?'' Entrapta asked, looking at Adora.

''I'm not sure,'' Adora answered, after giving it a bit of thought. ''She's very odd, though.'' 

''I asked if you two are from the same mother. You know… siblings... or relatives.'’

''You could say so, yeah.'' Adora replied, after a few seconds of weird silence and staring. 

''Sisters! I like that word,'' Entrapta clapped. ''Are there more like that one?'' 

''Yeah. They're kind of non-ending.'' Catra answered, getting closer to her piano to take a look, now that Entrapta was too distracted to want to break it down. 

''Ah! Humans are so entertaining with all their silly words.'' She said, looking at Adora. '' I can't see why you don't like them.''

''So, Catra, how do you like it?'' Adora asked, signalling to the piano.

''Ah! It's amazing!'' She answered, playing a few keys just for the pleasure of it. ''Thank you so, so much, ms First. I'll play you whatever you want. And I can compose for you, if that's your desire.'' 

''Right, Entrapta, you see that all is settled now.'' Adora tapped one of the robots, as she not-so-subtly moved her sister towards the exit door. 

''I still need to move it to another room!'' Entrapta remembered at the last minute, escaping from Adora's grip and going back to typing on a screen. First sighed as she watched her younger sister command the robots, all loud noises and too energetic moving. ''Human! Tell me where you want it!'' 

Catra moved quickly to the art room, making up space on one of the corners for the piano, holding a few canvases as she wondered where she was going to put them, walking to another stack of canvases in the room and placing them there. 

Entrapta and her robots finished moving the piano inside – no rough landings this time, thanks to whoever forces out there– and seemed pleased with her work. 

''I told you I would fix it, sisters!'' She said to Adora. Catra didn't feel like correcting her misuse of plural. ''Anyways, I'll be back with my new inventions for you in a few days, Catra!'' She ran off the room, being accompanied by all her robots, as if she just remembered there was another piano somewhere for her to disassemble. 

As soon as the exit door closed, Adora let out a big sigh and then, looking at Catra, she answered the question from earlier:

''You can play as you please.'' Catra nodded as she carefully watched First's hands reaching the back of her own head and undoing the ponytail she always wore. Her straight blonde hair fell around her shoulders as she used her hands to comb them, unaware of the human paying close attention to her movements. It was kind of hypnotising to watch Adora being herself, Catra felt as if there was something new to discover just by the way she moved and interacted with things around herself. The thing is she couldn't just stay there, staring First like a total creep.

''I'll go play something, then. Call me if you need anything.'' She smiled compliantly and bowed a bit, even if the Vallean wasn't looking at her. Better to not risk it. Sitting by the piano, she took a while to admire it. She wouldn't have to share it with anyone else, and even though Catra didn't think of her as someone selfish, this realisation was somehow satisfying.

She wouldn't have to worry that she was going to be interrupted at the peak of her creative process while composing something just because her daily-hour of piano access had ended. It was one more of these things she had gone through her life that, although seemingly silly, she didn't realise how much it upset her until she didn't have to deal with it anymore. Catra didn't have any music sheets with her, but she touched a few of the keys, trying out its tuning and seeing it was okay.

She fooled around a bit, just testing out tunes and getting used to the new keyboard. Then she took a deep breath and, closing her eyes, Catra started to pour out the melody coming from her heart, letting the music flow through her fingers. She felt it leaving her body in strong waves of emotions, slower at times before becoming faster again. The music resonated inside the room at the same time it embraced her in an excruciating hug, similar to those given right before a goodbye, one of those hugs you can't properly enjoy its comfort because, truth be told, you are being cut open from the insides just from watching someone go. And she had one too many of those in her life. As she reached the ending, bitter as they came, the final chord reverberated as if it wanted to linger a little more, to remain embedded inside Catra's heart. When the silence came, she gasped for air, not noticing she had been crying the entire time. It felt as if something carved her chest open and left it empty and aching. As she started looking around for a paper and a pen, trying her best to remember what she had played but realising she didn't remember anything but the last note, she noticed Adora standing weirdly by the door, as if she was still deciding if she was going to stay or go. She cleared her throat:

''I knocked but you didn't reply. I felt like… I had to come in and check,'' First sounded a bit affected, as if seeing Catra under such emotional distress had caused her a deep disruption. The human dried her tears, nodding and trying to keep her nerves down. ’’I... are you okay with Entrapta experimenting on you?'' Adora couldn't look at her in the eyes, Catra noticed. ''It's probably something harmless... But I can tell her to not make it if you don't want it.'' 

''Thank you for asking. And I'm fine with it, I guess? … She is your sister. I'm gonna assume she's just as genius at it as you are.'' 

''She is way more. Uh...'' Adora looked at Catra's tear-stained face for a second, before diverting her eyes to the direction of the piano. ''Are you breathing?'' 

''I am.'' Catra smiled. Weird alien.

''Good. Good,'' Adora nodded, fiddling with her hands. ''Good song too. Decent work. Chords progressions and such.'' First clearly had no idea what she was saying. Which was okay, because Catra had no idea of what she had played. 

''Yeah... Thank you. I could offer to play it again someday, but the truth is I can't really remember what I played.'' She didn't know why she said it out loud, she was already regretting it. That was stupid. She was stupid.

''Oh,'' Adora said. ''You can always keep playing something else." She nodded and left the room, leaving Catra there, with the weirdest of the feelings inside her chest, not knowing what to do with it. But she could always keep playing. And that's what she would do. 

She spent the entire day holed up inside her art room, getting reacquainted with the piano after a few weeks without playing. Being able to play without feeling rushed was a whole new world, now she didn't need to worry about mastering a certain technique or to learn the most she could of a song before her time was up. She just played because she felt like it, because it was fun to make art that, if she didn't write it down, wouldn't exist in any other place but her memory, fading away at time's hands. It was like slowly building herself a safe place. Fragile, but still. 

Hours later, when she felt completely exhausted from playing all day and music wasn't flowing as easily as before, she got up and winced as her whole body hurt on her walk outside the room. She noticed Adora quietly typing in a dark corner, only illuminated by the blue-ish gloom from all the screens everywhere and wondered if she had stayed the entire day there as well. For now, she just wanted something to eat and then to rest. Catra walked to the kitchen for water and food, noticing there was a second bottle at the cabinet, labelled with her name. Frowning, she opened it to find only red pills. She stared at it with incredulity, not knowing what to make of it. Was this some kind of mockery? But if so, why? Was it some kind of punishment for picking food, maybe? Could Adora even do such a thing? 

She never heard anything about Valleans having any sense of humour or the habit of pulling pranks, so this could only mean Adora was being a jerk on purpose... right? She couldn't think of any other reason that First would go out of her way and get only red food pills to feed Catra. This wasn't even healthy, each colour had a designed supplement she needed in order to survive and she couldn't live with only reds. She swallowed them with distaste, suddenly feeling as if her little eccentricity had been ruined. How did Adora even notice it? She had always been distracted when Catra picked her pills. And now Adora was deciding even what she would eat from now on, apparently. 

To be honest, Catra was feeling upset with how much Valleans felt entitled to mess with humans, to make all the decisions for them, not caring for any of the impacts it could have. They could replace humans whenever they started to show cracks, anyways. And Catra could fool herself as much as she wanted, make up scenarios in her head where she could create a safe space for herself or even have creative freedom but, the truth was she didn't have choices. She was trapped and, every little 'favour' Adora did for her was only trapping her more and more. She was a fool to believe there was such a thing as autonomy for a human. And she had been aware of that her entire life, but the fury never had gotten any smaller. Because being aware that there was nothing she could do to change her situation was infuriating and sometimes, disturbing. 

And Catra couldn't deny the immediacy of her destiny, she knew where she would stop at the end. The Machine had been a big, imposing certainty in her life. There weren't many ways she could impose herself to a Vallean, but Catra loved playing with fire.

As she walked to her room to sleep that night, she didn't wish a good night to Adora. Not even after First's eyes followed her during the entire way, waiting for something that never came. Not even after Adora muttered ''good night’’. She knew this could be seen as defiance but if she was bound to burn, it would be on her own terms.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New character introduced, huh? Tell me what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you so much for the 102 kudos! And all the lovely feedback! It makes me sooo happy~

To be fair, Catra had to admit she had a very hard time dealing with Adora and all that she represented. The human never knew how to deal with First's actions and how to try and make some sense of them. And there was always too much at risk for her to try to do something about it, anyways. So she always answered it with frustration. It was too stressful to share your routine with someone you knew nothing about and that clearly held a lot of power over your life. Catra never knew what to expect. She wasn't even sure of what Adora thought of her. Sure, First had been on the verge of caring with Catra that one time, but a lot of her actions could also be interpreted as completely aversive towards humans. Catra didn't know what to make of any of it.

Then she spent her days avoiding going outside of her room at times she knew Adora was at the house. It was much easier to deal with the confusion inside herself when she didn't have to face those piercing blue eyes. And it was even easier to sort out what she could do, artistically speaking, than to deal with Adora, who seemed to be enjoying the cold shoulder as well, as she didn't bother popping inside the room once in a while like she used to. There was a chance she even forgot Catra existed. Hopefully.

But it was hard to live her life like that, always on edge. So tiring at times, and Catra could barely figure out what exactly kept her on edge. The fear of being sent to the Machine always hovering over her? Discovering she wasn't, actually, an artist? All those unanswered questions? Not even being able to respond for herself? There was too much, actually. It was as if something was playing with all her boundaries, testing Catra to see how much it would take for her to snap. And she had no choices but to accept. Even with all the feelings that bubbled under her skin, that drove her mad sometimes, even when Catra felt like her thoughts were going so fast, at such a mean pace, that her entire body was going to just shut down, at sudden. But it was a loop. There were days she kept herself busy enough that those were just passing thoughts, but there were days they lingered around, made themselves at home inside her head. There were days she couldn't recognise herself in the mirror.

And when it happened, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. She looked at the piece she was trying to paint, with frustration. It was just as meaningless as almost everything else she painted in her life. This was meant to be her escape from her insistent thoughts. Sighing, she let go of the painting brush and tapped her fingers against her waist, trying to figure it out. Catra started looking around, realising she would have to calm down a bit if she wanted to finish her piece. There was the corner where her piano sat, shiny and new, with multiple blank canvases stacked next to it, plus boxes of art materials and the window she liked to paint close by. Catra realised she never stopped to look at the view. 

With a few steps, she approached the window and looked outside, daring to wonder about all the things that were out of her reach. Everything outside was grey, not in the dirty or abandoned way books used to describe big cities on Earth, but in a clean, way-too-polished way. The buildings seemed to shine, with their distinct shapes and all the panel windows. No one was outside, except for those bullet-shaped automotives the Valleans used, but the skyline was there, as far as her eyes could reach. In a world of whites and greys, the light blue sky was still there to comfort her, just like the one from Earth. Which was an ironic thing because in its final years, as Earth started to fade away, the sky had been so grey and full of pollution, that no one could see a peek of blue. And, with the thick clouds of dirt in the sky, everything else looked dark as well, as if it was an eternal night. A night humans wouldn't live enough to see the sunrise again.

But in the end, seeing the blue sky there, the same she saw from the windows at the Institute, the same her grandparents used to see on Earth, gave her a strange sense of familiarity. Catra had to cling to the small details, the same way she did with her canvas: something personal and delicate here and there, but never too obvious to be caught by the attentive eyes of her Ma. She opened the window, breathing in the always-clean air, listening to the almost nonexistent street noises and closed her eyes, telling each one of her thoughts to just appreciate what they had as she focused on getting back on track. And then she imagined herself wearing a linen dress, the sun kissing her skin warmly, a fresh breeze messing up with her hair, grass cool under her feet. She had no idea how any of these things actually felt, but for a moment, it was just like in the books. The contentment of being aware of her own existence, the longing, the brief silence in her head... 

For a moment, nothing else existed, but Catra. She was real and her feelings were, too. Because for a moment, she could visualize them: they were those scary, misshapen things lingering at the corners of her grass field. Parts of her being. Feelings. Those were things she didn't have to think much about back at the Institute – what mattered there was if she was able to master techniques and concepts. Taking a last deep breath, she opened her eyes slowly and let go of the window frame, that she didn't realise she was gripping. The blue sky was still there. And she was going to finish that painting, even if she was unable to capture her emotions the way she wanted. The voices were still screaming inside her head, but now she felt as if they were meters away, a muffled sound with a mean energy. Still there, but low enough that she could focus on something else. 

Catra looked at what she had started, the painting looks exactly like what she pictured in her head, but it lacked heart, almost as if she had done it automatically. Which probably had some truth to it. She was falling back on old habits, of treating the dearest thing she had in life as something she had to do quickly to just be over with. Catra thought about the Institute, knowing that back then if she wanted to pour her feelings into her art, that was a plus. What mattered there were her abilities. But since she started to live with Adora, Catra felt that her art wasn't being truthful if it wasn't anything more than a pretty picture. It was as if she was going through a whole process of rediscovering what art meant for her and why it mattered so much – aside from the obvious reasons, of course. 

And now that she knew that Adora didn't want a thing to do with her art, she felt a new sense of duty – because if her art wasn't supposed to appeal to others anymore, it meant she was the only one she had to please. Catra had never given it much thought – making art that was completely and utterly made for herself, in tune with her personal tastes. She was used to just doing it as requested and trying to attain her personal choices to pick a different colour here, changing a few strokes there, adding a small detail in places only she would notice but was still something to please others' eyes. Catra was used to fitting herself in small spaces, never needing to elaborate on her preferences. Now she had whole canvases she could fill in with whatever she liked to – and some of them were even taller than her!- but what would she paint? 

The Institute was what she always ran to when she felt lost of ideas. But was that all? Didn't Catra have more feelings to share besides longing for what she had known her entire life? And the longing for things she didn't have? Why couldn't she just turn off all these questioning thoughts and paint whatever seemed right? How could she claim herself to be an artist when she couldn't solve things as simple as picking her preferences and inserting them in a goddamn painting?

Looking at the paints splattered all over her godet, she dabbed her brush in mustard yellow paint and stared at the canvas. She could do it. She just had to  _ do it _ . It was hard to convince herself that this was okay, that she wasn't ruining her piece, but she touched the brush to the canvas and, taking a deep breath, a yellow stroke was being unevenly spread in the realistic portrait of a woman she saw in a fashion book. She did it. And it didn't make her feel anxious at all. 

Dabbing the brush on paint again, Catra repeated the movement a few more times, intrigued with how it was turning out. Adding in crimson red to the mess, she felt as if she was going somewhere, trying her best to not overthink about every stroke she was making next but just going with the process, her shoulders becoming less heavy with every new addition as she focused on the canvas in front of her. Without being afraid of corrupting it, because she had never been satisfied with it in the first place. As the woman's head became a frantic confusion of deep yellows and reds – and oranges where the colours met-, Catra felt it becoming more real. It didn't look very genius – or innovative, she was sure she had already seen some works with the same concept before–, but it felt closer to who she was than the initial idea. Sometimes, art and chaos were the same things.

Taking a step back as she cleaned her hands with a rag and looked at the painting as a whole. Catra breathed in, and it felt as if she was having fresh air for the first time in a long time. It felt somewhat good – and scary, as well. Like when you first enter the ocean: it is such a charming and interesting vision, you feel compelled to it, but at the same time, the water is cold and you can never know what might be hiding in there, so you decide to not get in. Not that Catra had ever been to an ocean before. She actually got that comparison from a book. Anyways. 

Catra had a newly finished painting. It wasn't what she had pictured in the beginning, but it was a result of letting go. She let go of her fears about the painting, and she was letting go of the need of Adora's approbation ever since that night Catra didn't wish her goodnight, marking their last bit of contact ever since. If First felt entitled to change even the human's food, it just showed how much she didn't give a shit about Catra as a living being. It made her wonder what could be next. And this shouldn't be as surprising as Catra was acting it out to be. But it still felt awful to feel completely uncared for. And to not even know if what she was doing was truly the right thing. Or if she was just digging her own grave deeper and deeper with each day. 

Trying to take her mind out of it, Catra started cleaning all her utensils and realised that after that, she had nothing more to do for the day. With the urgency provided by the uncertainty, she felt once again the beginning of vicious thoughts and the strong grip on her chest making their way in, as she went over things that happened the past few days, doubting herself and her judgement. What if Catra misunderstood it all and was being rude for no reason? She shouldn't have been giving Adora a cold shoulder like that. Right?

And as she progressed with her cleaning, her thoughts grew louder and persistent. By the time she finished, finding herself with empty hands and nothing else to do now, all this loneliness floating around her, reflected in white and polished surfaces. She felt as if the recently-acquired good feeling from the painting had gone back to complete insecurity and self-doubt. It was like she dove right in the ocean and instead of getting used to the cold water it was only getting colder and she felt something strange touching her legs and now she was breathless and sinking in because the truth is she doesn't know how to swim so diving in the sea was never a good idea in the first place. 

'' _ Catra,''  _ A voice called repeatedly. '' _ Catra.''  _ It said again. The human snapped out of it, looking around and realising Adora wasn't there. Then she looked at one lit-up screen and realised it had been Light Hope. ' _ 'I have an alarm set to remember you to go eat _ .'' The AI said, before disappearing again. 

''But I didn't set any reminders...'' Catra murmured. She didn't feel like eating anything, a tight ball knotted in her stomach, but still decided to take the recommendation, hoping it would help her calm down. Not that it mattered now that Adora had messed up with her vitamins and she was only ingesting the red ones now. Had Catra set the reminder when she was reading and forgot to turn it off? She wasn't sure but didn't think so. 

Catra was sure she was home alone, so she didn't expect to find herself in the same room as Adora so soon. Adora had a glass of water in her hands and looked weird. Not the  _ normal weird _ , but as if she was actually having conflicted feelings. Not the normal conflicted feelings, as well. First was probably just as annoyed to see Catra as Catra was to see First. 

Gulping and trying to swallow the guilty down, the human lowered her head and grabbed her bottle of pills and a glass of water, trying to avoid visual contact with Adora. It felt weird to start any conversation now that they had gone so many days without communicating. What even could she say? Drop the load of guilt, remorse and neglect she carried each of these days on Adora? That wasn't an actual option. 

''Entrapta will come tomorrow.'' The Vallean said, nonchalantly. 

''I'm so sorry.'' She blurted out, not thinking of anything else she could say. And, well, turns out dropping her load of emotions was an option and, of all of them, the guilt wasn't the worst one, by far.

''You don't want Entrapta to come by anymore? I can tell her that.'' A strong wave of guilt hit Catra again.

''I'm so sorry I didn't say goodnight to you that night. And all the others after that.'' 

''I– Why is that?'' Adora furrowed her eyebrows. ''It's not like I required you to do it.''

''But you don't have to. Because it is my mission to be nice to you and guarantee that you are...'' 

''I have robots for that, Catra. I never needed to depend on a human to adulate me and I won't start to now.'' She inserted her now-empty cup inside the cleaner and left the room quietly. 

So this was it. Catra felt pathetic for feeling so guilty over it when Adora didn't even want her around, for starters. She felt pathetic, and she was still feeling awful from the anxiety and suddenly all of this was too much. With a sudden wave of anger, Catra followed Adora out of the room:

''You know what? I'm not just going to sit around and watch you tolerate me.'' She huffed, chest rising fast with fury. ''So you better decide what is stronger.'' 

The Vallean looked at her with shock written across her face. Their eyes met one another and, for a moment, just enough time for Adora to take a deep breath and come back to her senses, the human could see something well-known inside those deep blues. Catra could see vulnerability mirrored in the eyes of someone that was supposed to be so different from her. But then it was gone just as it came and the cold façade was back in place, her voice cutting the air like a sharp knife: 

''You think you are so special, don't you? But I can exchange you for another one whenever I want.''

''That was a new type of low, you know? Even for you.'' Catra replied, clenching her fists by her sides and pacing to the corridor. ''Changing my food just because you felt entitled to? That I could live with. But I'm not staying here to hear threats.'' 

''Catra...'' She heard Adora call, just as the human closed the door to her sleeping room. 

Catra heard a knock on the door a few minutes after she entered the room. She wasn't ready to see Adora's face again. She was too consumed by the anger for anything that required more than huffing heavily. Could she even deny a conversation to Adora? Catra didn't think so, but she also knew that this didn't matter much anymore. She had already been stupidly reckless with her words. 

Looking around, she landed her eyes on her bed and rushed to it, getting under the covers and working on easing her breathing. Seconds after, Catra heard the door opening slowly and Adora stepping in until she was right in front of the bed. The human didn't know what Adora was doing because she had her eyes closed and the only thing she could listen to was her own accelerated heartbeat, but she hoped the Vallean would leave soon.

''I… I noticed you always picked them.'' Adora said, after a while. ’’The pills, I mean… And I... Unless… this was something you didn't appreciate. Which of course you didn't. _Damnit, Adora.''_ She muttered the last part under her breath, before leaving the room again. 

Catra waited for a few beats before opening her eyes again, staring at the dim room, blinking slowly, thoughts racing.  _ What. the. fuck. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And things are about to get interesting ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the second paragraph was slightly inspired by Louis Tomlinson's [Defenceless](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nk37by3cO0Q) which is definitely a recurrent soundtrack of this fanfiction. 
> 
> Hope y'all like this one! *Drops chapter and starts running away while laughing manically*

Catra spent a few good hours thinking and rethinking what Adora had said, imagining every possible interpretation her tired brain could come up with. And it was getting harder, because every new possibility was more anguishing than the other and, even though Catra was aware that she was going places too far-fetched from the truth, she couldn't stop herself from going there. She would go over every single choice of words both she and the Vallean used, questioning herself if her words could've been misinterpreted or if Adora's meant something else with her own. Slowly, exhaustion started to take control and Catra fell asleep to a head full of worries. 

But the thing about sleeping on your problems is that they will always be there when you wake up, lurking in the morning shadows and ready to turn your world upside down once again. And that was exactly what happened, memories of the past night coming back even before Catra could stir up properly. She stayed in bed for a while, twisting the covers with her hands, nervously asking herself what could be waiting for her on the other side of the door. Slowly, she built the courage to get up and go to the washing room, thinking that, maybe, if she acted normal, Adora would pretend anything had happened as well.

Catra was counting too much on her luck for someone that had such a history of getting screwed over and over. At least she had a minute of peace in between getting herself clean and walking to the kitchen for water and food. Adora was waiting by the kitchen, in her usual all-black outfit and a high ponytail. It was hard to imagine that woman ever losing control of something in her life. Maybe Catra had imagined the vulnerability she saw in Adora's eyes the past night, that maybe she was so eager to feel like there was someone that could understand how she felt that she just made it all up. 

''Talk with me,'' Adora said and of course she was demanding. 

''Yes, ma'am?'' Catra said, hoping the spite would go unnoticed. Adora looked right into her eyes, then quickly focused them on something else behind the human. Catra felt infuriated every time this happened because not being able to even look Adora straight in the face when they were talking was unnerving as their height difference already made it hard for them to have a conversation at the same level, Catra was always being looked at as the lower part, while Adora was always at an upper position. The literalness of it all would be funny if it wasn't so tragic. 

''You were already asleep when I talked with you yesterday...'' The Vallean said, taking a quick look at Catra's face then staring at the wall again. ’’The red pills started to run out quicker. And I know the lab that makes them and I… I mean... read. The label.'' She said, grabbing the bottle at the cabinet, shoving it at Catra's chest and leaving the house in a rush. 

The human stared at the closed door for an instant, trying to understand what had just happened. Adora was confusion in its most pure form. After a few seconds blinking to the void, Catra realised she was still holding the bottle against her chest and remembered what Adora had told her. Once again, she saw her birth name written in messy handwriting on one side:  _ K9165M _ , and turned the bottle around, reading the tiny letters. '' _ Each pill contains ⅕ of the needed nutrients of a meal, requiring that 5 of them are consumed per feed'',  _ followed by a disclaimer of what each nutrient was and its proportions in each pill. Catra walked to the kitchen and got the other bottle of food, comparing their instructions. They were different from one another.  _ Did Adora request a new formula just so I could have all I need in just red pills?,  _ Catra questioned herself,  _ I mean… she has enough influence for something like that, doesn't she? But why would she do something like that?  _

She couldn't come up with a conclusion that wasn't something absurd, like the possibility that Adora cared about her. It had to be something else. Didn't Adora just threaten her the past night? Back when Catra asked the Vallean to decide which feeling was stronger, she didn't expect things to become even more confusing. Now she had this big, neon question mark roaming above her head and felt as if all of her fears were confirmed. Adora had threatened her with the Machine. It wasn't just her Ma's words anymore, it was an actual possibility. But before Catra could swallow herself even more on a non-ending chain of thoughts, she heard something fiddling with the door. At first, she got apprehensive that it was Adora coming back. And a bit excited, because maybe things weren't so bad as she thought. But then the door-fiddling started to take longer than Adora's usual hand-scanning and she started to get scared. 

''Light Hope?'' She called, watching as one visor immediately turned on. ’’ … Can you tell me who is outsid-'' But before Light Hope could answer anything, the door opened and Catra's heartbeat probably got so fast it could explode at any minute. But then she saw a bunch of purple hair and managed to breathe normally again. 

''Hello, sisters!'' Entrapta barged in, her weird pet-robot following right back. 

''Uh… hi. Adora just left.'' Catra said, a bit lost with words. 

''She would only disturb me, anyways.'' She answered, starting to rescue a bunch of tools from her pockets. Without a second thought, she walked closer to Catra and started to fit some kind of device on the human's body. 

''Entrapta… ah. Sorry for asking, but what exactly is this?'' The human asked as the device was covering a good part of her upper body. 

''Oh, it is something I created! I always see human-owners complaining that their humans sometimes forget to do their needs because they're concentrated on something else. Does this happen to you?''

''Yeah, when I'm reading or too engrossed in my art but...'' 

''See! Beautiful!'' Entrapta interrupted, busy adjusting her weird device and clicking on numbers on the tiny screen. ''Shhh. Hold on...'' She told Catra, taking a step back and watching. Soon the thing started to beep loudly against Catra's chest as it belted out  _ mealtime! Mealtime!  _

''What do I do?'' The human startled, looking at the device stuck to her torso and trying to find some button to turn it off.

''Ah. I knew I was forgetting something.'' Entrapta answered as she typed something down on a touch-screen. Then she pulled all the cables and the pieces apart, taking it off Catra's chest as the thing finally became silent. ''Well, that was a good first trial. Try and error is part of creating something new. At least it didn't explode like my last invention. What do you think about it, Catra?'' 

''Explode?!'' 

''Yeah, it happens. But don't worry, the chance of this one having exploded was just 9,1 per cent. Well, of course, if it had a bad fit, then it would increase to a solid 15% and if...''

''Ok, ok. I got it. Don't need any more data. This was supposed to be a device to remind me to go eat?'' 

''Data is always needed! But I suppose you humans don't get that. Y'all ruined a whole planet. And yes! It's genius, isn't it? And it can be used to remind you to drink water and to...'' 

''Like a clock alarm? I think that already exists'' Catra interrupted, hands slightly shaking with the possibility of having been blown up just seconds ago. 

''But does it beep as mine does?'' 

''Yeah? And I've seen in Earth's movies that humans had those wrist clocks. So they could be aware of time all the time. And some of them could vibrate and remind you of stuff.'' She signalled to her wrist, trying to explain it to the Vallean as Entrapta wrote notes. 

''Oh, a wrist band! That is much more practical than a vest.'' She exclaimed, sitting closer to Catra. ''What more?'' 

''Huh?'' 

''What more you have to tell me?'' 

''Uh… I don't know? I can set alarms through Light Hope, too.'' 

''So my device would be of no use,'' Entrapta noted, clicking her tongue. ’’What more do you know about human inventions?'' 

''Well, I'm sure you know more about it than me. All I know is what I've learned from movies and books, but I barely know any technical explanations.'' 

''You can just tell me about it and I'll figure it out.'' She smiled nicely and Catra had to let a relieved sigh out. It was the first time someone smiled truthfully to her in a long, long time and it was just as refreshing as she thought it would be. 

''I have a lot of books about extraordinary inventions! Some stuff existed that I can't even imagine how it must be to experience them… Have you ever heard of hot air balloons? And submarines! Oh, and did you know books were actually physical, made out of paper? And they had whole machines to print them!'' Catra talked as things came to her mind, memories of books she read coming into mind, while Entrapta scribbled furiously.

''Oh, it is so exciting to hear all these words I never heard before! C'mon, Emily! We have a lot of research to do!" She jumped to her feet, doing a poor job gathering the leftovers of her device, as a few of them were left behind, completely ignored. Catra tried to pick up a few of them, but Entrapta's hair made a movement as if to dismiss the help, and she let go of it. ''Ah, before I go. What did you think about the pills Adora got you?''

''I, uh...'' 

''Did you know pills were my idea? I just always loved tiny food! And getting humans to adapt to our diet was too hard because you have such sensitive stomachs. So I created something in the middle, that could satisfy both humans and Valleans. And it is tiny!'' Catra arched an eyebrow at that because she remembers eating those pills ever since she was a small kid. Either Entrapta was older than she let on or she had been a super gifted child. It was hard to tell, as Valleans aged differently than humans. ''And it was cool to create a formula just for you. I don't work with the food lab anymore but I still can ask for a favour once in a while.'' She clapped, clearly excited for the feedback.

''I didn't know you were the one responsible for the pills… that's impressive.'' 

''Nah, that thing? I made it when I was younger. I would've made it differently nowadays. I actually had this idea a while ago of some type of...'' She stopped when they heard the door opening again, Catra's heart picking up because she knew that, this time, it was Adora. Maybe with Entrapta there, she would have an excuse to slowly merge herself to the background and then sneak away to her room… 

''Entrapta.'' Adora said, laying her eyes on her sister. ''What are you...'' She saw the mess of tiny screws and leftovers cables scattered around the floor. ''Ah, right. Your newest invention. How did it go?'' 

''Meh,'' Entrapta shrugged her shoulders, her hair following the movement. ''Apparently it already exists in a much better version. I'm officially brain dead.'' Adora scoffed. 

''As if,'' the blonde one collected a few pieces from the floor, trying to figure them out. ''You just have to stop doing what people expect you to do.'' 

''Right. Because that's your function.'' Entrapta answered with an implied undertone, crossing her arms and looking at her sister, who kept collecting stuff from the ground. Adora sat down with all the pieces she collected, quietly gulping. One strand of blonde hair fell down her face, but she didn't fix it. Catra didn't know if she entertained herself looking at whatever Adora was fiddling with, the tiny pieces almost disappearing in between her gigantic hands or if she continued her quiet work of slowly pacing closer to the corridor. 

''I did what I had to do,'' Adora answered, offering her hand to her sister, with whatever she had made out of the little metal pieces. ''But you can do so much more.'' 

''I think I should go,'' Entrapta answered, ignoring Adora's hand and tapping Emily's metal trunk. As they left, Adora seemed to finally notice Catra, abandoning the small trinket by the table next to her and walking past her to the corridors. 

As the silence dominated the house, Catra looked around to confirm that she was completely alone and walked to the table, grabbing the small metal thing that fit the palm of her hand. Looking closely, it was something resembling a bird, all sharp angles and a bit disfigured, as if Adora had seen a picture of a mockingbird a long time ago and it stayed on her head all those years. 

Quietly, she hid the metal figure in her hands and took it with herself to her art room.

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

Sitting on the floor, with her back against the door, Catra looked closely at the small artifact. It had a fragile structure, as the pieces were just placed against each other and could fall off if handled carelessly. Still, it was some impressive work for a thing that took only a few minutes of fiddling. She placed it by the windowsill, its small wings reflecting whatever was left of daylight. Catra looked outside, the darkening horizon and all the neon lights that started to be turned on, leaving the streets too bright. 

Then she started to work on the puzzle that was Adora. It was as if she had a few pieces here and there, but none of them were from any of the corners and borders of the puzzle, so she didn't even know where to begin with. There wasn't an easier way to do it, so all she could do was hope the loose pieces she had would fit one another somehow. Catra recollected the conversation with Entrapta, now knowing for sure that Adora went after a formula of pills made specially for her. And just like earlier, she still didn't know what to think about it. It was hard to believe someone would go out of their way to do something good for her just because they could, not expecting anything in return. Her life had been fulfilled either by a series of hostile events or by getting prepared for hostility. And Catra knew better than to believe in the good of another person, especially a Vallean.  _ Guess I'll have to wait and see,  _ she thought. 

Now she was trying to filter out what she had listened to from the siblings' conversation. So… what exactly did Adora mean with '' I did what I had to do’’ ? Along with Entrapta's implication that doing what people expected one to do was Adora's function. 

Catra picked two entirely different pieces of the puzzle from the table and tried to put them together. Could it be about her main invention, the  _ Impressions _ ? That could explain why she wasn't proud of it, or why she looked so distressed when she saw Catra handling the device. Did it mean that Adora didn't like its function, that it gave Valleans the power of feeling emotions through a human? Was it something dangerous? Otherwise, why wouldn't one be proud of something they built? 

But Catra also didn't like every single piece of art she produced. She wondered if Adora ever felt the urge to tear her own creation down.  _ No. I have to stop searching for similarities between us two,  _ she thought,  _ because we are nothing alike. And to think we are is to fool myself.  _ She had to focus on what she had seen for sure and that was Adora expressing distaste for her creation that one time and Entrapta implying that Adora had created something because she was trying to please someone, or something. In her mind, Catra fitted those two pieces together, knowing that, for now, they looked like a good combination. But also aware that one day she could look back and see that they were a false-fit all this time. That's the thing about assembling puzzles without knowing what the fuck the final image was supposed to look like. It could be everything she expected it to, but it could also be something entirely different.

And, to be honest, being aware that Adora wasn't proud of the very own creation that made her so known as a prodigee already had shook Catra's world in several degrees. If she didn't give this information much attention the first time she heard about it – too lost in her own stuff –, now Catra felt a certain kind of obsession, a need to know more and be able to fit one more piece on the puzzle. And Entrapta was, probably, the easiest way she had to obtain information about Adora. She knew that it was a dangerous path to go down, going behind Adora's back, but it was the way to go, unless she was willingly to keep searching incessantly for little bits of information here and there, in an eternal search for planes in the sea. 

But for now, she knew a few things: a) independently of Adora's purpose with the change of pills, it wasn't something that was going to harm her. And, for now, Catra would have to believe that Adora was at her best intentions for the sake of her own peace of mind; b) there was something of a delicate nature hovering over Entrapta and Adora's relationship; c) the  _ Impressions  _ existed because of the pressure of a third party, from all she could gather and d) Catra was going to find out the answers to her questions, no matter at what cost. 

At the moment, she had an intriguing metal figure of a small bird that was already enough material for thoughts. Ever since when Valleans could make art? From a logical point of view, could this even be considered art? And not to be the one that opens the debate of what is art, but what is it? This touchable small bird, or something more intangible, bordering on indefinite? Even if it hadn't been Adora's intention, seeing the small sculpture provoked undesirable feelings on Catra's poor human heart, stirring up questions that she wasn't ready to face yet. 

And this was how she found herself lying on the floor hours later, staring at the ceiling and a head full of questions. It was comfortable down there, a bit rootening to feel the cold floor against her back, the white ceiling always-the-same as her mind worked in unsettled, broken frequencies, like an old car's radio when you're driving down a valley. This whole laying-on-the-floor situation was becoming quite a thing, to be honest. Catra heard the door opening, but didn't bother checking who it was. She already knew. 

Adora had a cup of water on one hand and the pills bottle on the other. The Vallean silently put it above the table, next to the human's paints. And it could be the different lighting, it could be the confusion inside Catra's head making her vulnerable, but it was something endearing to watch. 

''I was informed you didn't eat your meals today.''  _ Ah, of course Light Hope is a snitch.  _ Slowly, the Vallean got down and laid on the floor as well, distant enough from Catra so it wouldn't be weird but close enough that the human was aware of Adora's presence. 

They were there in silence for a minute or more, just coexisting in time and space. Adora was right next to her, their breaths coming in slow, almost-synchronized puffs and this, somehow, was the most intimate moment they ever had, feeling as if it was too heavily-charged to actually go through. Catra didn't have to look to know Adora was staring at her face. She didn't feel the courage to look back and face whatever was imprinted in those disconcerting cat-like blue eyes, to be honest. So there was silence. 

''Why… Why are you here?'' Adora asked and  _ damn _ , if that wasn't a hell of a question. Catra bobbed her head so she could look honestly in those eyes and hope she would magically find an answer there. The Vallean broke the eye-contact as soon as it was established, leaving Catra to watch the slow drag of her throat, as Adora swallowed. It was something a bit peculiar, to be able to look at Adora like that, up close and from a proper angle. Her pale hair, even paler skin, the unnerving perfect slope she had as a nose, as the dark room illuminated by the outside lights absorbed Adora in cool shades. Catra felt like reaching out and touching, just wondering how it would feel. As long as she could have had answered a thousand things to Adora's question, Catra stuck with the most obvious:

''I'm just… upset.'' They stared at each other for a beat, the lack of proper lighting making Adora's eyes look like a deep blue, profound ocean. Just like Catra thought they would. She heard the rustling of clothes as Adora got up and left the room. _ That was to be expected _ , the human thought, still disappointed. She was left alone in the room, to the same ceiling as before. What was not expected was Adora coming back a few beats later, laying on the floor one more time. 

''The book… it says I should ask you if there is anything I could do for you.'' Ah, the book Adora was always talking about. Catra wondered what exactly were its contents.  _ Human feelings 101?!  _ She rolled to her belly and propped her arms under her head, looking at Adora's face from an upper view. 

''You are kinda weird, did you know it?'' She smiled softly, watching as Adora flinched a bit. ''I didn't mean to offend you. It's just… you are not what I thought you would be. ’’ 

’’Is that... bad?'' Adora was looking at her hands, touching a small cut at one of her fingers, that Catra believed was from her sculpture-building earlier.

''I'm still trying to get to find an answer to that... but, concerning what you asked… is there a thing...'' She commented, suddenly grinning. Adora arched her brows questioningly and it was somehow so interesting to see those small, slight changes in her features up close. 

''What is it?'' 

''You could tell me something about yourself.'' Catra suggested, still aware of the way Adora was moving and dodging visual contact. 

''I don't know how this could make you feel better...'' 

‘’It’s easy logic!'' Catra said, as she hoped Adora wouldn’t catch her lying right through her teeth. And well, in comparison to Valleans, she was sure humans were way more curious. They just didn’t know how to properly apply the information they gathered. ‘’Humans are naturally curious. Not being fed with new information makes us upset, specially if it’s information from people we share space.’’ 

''I never heard of that.''

''Well, I'm a human and I am telling you that. What is a better source of information than the source itself?''

''I guess you have a point.'' She said, drumming her fingers against her body. ''Is there anything in particular you would like to know?'' Adora turned her head, face touching the floor as she looked directly at Catra, with hooded eyes. Now the human was the one feeling the urge to break eye contact. 

''There are a lot of particulars I'd like to know about.'' She answered, as Adora snorted lightly in response. And it was… in the lack of better wording,  _ interesting _ . Sharing a decent conversation with Adora, seeing her express some hint at humor, learning how her face looked from a different angle… that was something Catra didn't think she would experience so soon. Or never, honestly. 

’’Pick one, then.'' Catra's head suddenly was blank, as she looked around quickly trying to think of something, just anything she could ask Adora. There was just so much… Her eyes landed on the windowsill, the little bird reflecting a shy light. 

’’When did you learn to make a bird sculpture?'' She asked and Adora followed her stare, eyes landing on the small bird with understanding.

''So you found it.'' She commented, with a neutral tone. Catra was relieved Adora wasn't angry at her for keeping the bird. Or, if she was, at least she wasn't going to show it now. ''Entrapta was obsessed with it when we were younger. But it's been a while since she last made something like this.'' 

''I didn't know Valleans could make something so artistic.'' Catra commented, regretting it immediately as she saw an abrupt change of mood in Adora.

''We can't.'' She sat up again, fixing her hair with her back turned to the human. It was hard to guess anything about the way Adora was feeling now, but Catra didn't need to see her face to understand the message behind her tense shoulders. ''It's just a copy of someone else's design.'' Adora finished, getting up and stopping by the door. They watched each other for a second, as Catra was now sitting, the room darker than it was before with silhouettes playing against the walls. It felt as if not only a spatial barrier had been built between them, but something else. Well, honestly, it was as if the barrier had just been put back into place again, after a very short time down. 

''Adora...'' 

''You should eat.'' She ducked her head in the direction of the cup of water and pills, leaving the room with a soft  _ click  _ from the door. As confusion took over, Catra got up and ate her meal, knowing that this was the best she could do for now.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrieks excitedly in sapphics with communication issues language* 
> 
> (Just wanted to thank you all for the support, it has been amazing so far! Thank you so, so much <3)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get interesting. New characters are introduced. A lot of info was dropped. The author is running around in circles and screaming like mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Big chapter ahead. I had a crazy busy week and I literally just finished this, so I'm sure there are grammar mistakes and I'm sorry in advance. Uhhh trigger warnings to: moderate description of an anxiety attack and mentions of substance use.

Birds stayed on her mind for days, though. Even if Catra had always been slightly scared of them, she couldn't quite let them go now. At the corner of a painting, as she played a song, as she modelled clay. Catra even tried to recreate a realistic version of Adora's bird, but it was hard when she couldn't recognize its actual specimen. And there was even a quite intriguing oil painting of a natural landscape, but with a metal bird laying upon a tree instead of an actual animal. Those didn't mean anything beyond Catra's own obsession and curiosity, but trying to fit it somewhere was proving to be harder than she thought it would. 

She and Adora had established a decent relationship again, sharing their meals at the kitchen at the same time, quick conversations here and there as their routine fell back into place. There was this one time Catra stopped to watch Adora work and the Vallean even stopped whatever she was doing to point out some incongruity she had found in someone else's calculation. Catra didn't understand a thing of mathematics, of course, but she nodded as enthusiastically as if she was a greek kid discovering Earth wasn't in the centre of the universe. Or was it some Italian kid? Anyways, it didn't matter. Earth didn't even exist anymore. And all she had to do was look invested in what Adora was talking about because truth be told, it was actually quite interesting to listen to. Just seeing someone talking about a subject as excitedly about as Catra was when she was talking about art was something she could relate to.

And, in response, Catra was surprised by Adora one day. The human was sitting on a quiet corner watching a movie on one of the screens when she felt the couch dipping to the opposite side. To her amazement, it was Adora, staring at the movie with a crease between her eyebrows. 

''I… I don't get it.'' She said, after a while. Catra had to contain her own shock because she had forgotten all about the movie in those quick minutes, busy being a total creep. 

''What?'' 

“What is the joy of seeing other people living their lives? Like… what is the point of seeing through others’ eyes?” She asked, eyes still glued on the screen as if it was her newest object of study. Which, knowing Adora, it probably was. Catra wished she had put something less trashy to watch today. She hoped Adora didn't ask what was so interesting in watching teen romances. _It is complicated, okay?_

“It is good to have a way to escape from life every once in a while. Especially when I have so little about my life I can control...'' Catra turned her head to the screen, knowing her hair would do its job hiding her face, as she didn't want to be seen by Adora in such a vulnerable state. ’’To see the possibility of different lives, different universes, the way things can always unfold in an unexpected way, gives me a certain kind of pleasure painting or composing cannot give. That’s why it is called entertainment. It keeps humans hopeful… And isn’t seeing through others’ eyes exactly the point of the device you built?” She answered, biting her lips and hoping she didn't say too much. 

“That's interesting,” Adora says, as she stares at the movie being exhibited. “And it was never meant to have that purpose. What is it that entertains you?” _Ah, nice._ Catra was going to have to explain the movie.

''The romance and all the drama that goes with it.'' Catra answered, ''you know, the whole heartbreak and wrongdoings, then the moment the characters find happiness. It's something else.'' 

''Strange,'' Adora commented, as something started to beep and she got up to check it. Catra didn't pay much attention to it, used to Adora's crazy working schedule and was quite satisfied to notice she was working more at-home lately. Well, supposing that, when she left, it was to work somewhere. Why did Catra never bother asking Adora where the hell she worked? And how was the place? _Probably because she would never offer me a decent answer._ Well, not that it would keep her from asking. ''Catra.'' Adora's voice shook her out of her thoughts and she turned her head in the direction of the sound. 

''Yes, miss?'' 

''I need you to go pick some clothes for yourself. We have an art exhibit later.'' She said, pointing to a screen and leaving. _Ah, so nice of you, Adora, to just drop this bomb and go! What even am I supposed to wear at an art exhibition?!_ _  
_ _  
_ _Ok, function first, freak out later. Do not freak out, Catra, repeat, do. not. freak. out._ She walked the few steps necessary to the screen, noticing it was open in some type of clothes-for-Archetypes website. What did Adora expect from her? Bright, bold? Discreet, sober?

''Light Hope, what am I supposed to wear for today's event?'' 

'' _Formal-wear is required for Valleans, Catra. But archetypes get to have more freedom in their outfit choices.''_

''Thanks for nothing,'' she replied bitterly. Did freedom mean she could go out with the most outstanding dress she could find or did freedom mean she could go wearing sleeping pants and a sports bra? Catra played around at the website, discovering a quite useful option that allowed her to see how the clothes would look on her body, real-time. _That will have to do._

Later that day, Catra was locked inside the washing room, hoping she would have enough time to get ready, after her last minute decision to embroider silver stars to her dress. Another fun thing about Adora's sudden announcement was that she didn't specify the time. And Catra wasn't good neither at functioning under pressure nor at embroidering. She knew how to do it, sure thing, but her fingers were also full of punctures and sensible. As Catra slipped inside the dress, struggling with all the layers and the pompous structure, she hoped it was enough. It was the first time she wore something so fancy and, as she pulled the dress up and felt its zipper closing at her back – some kind of magnetic technology that she didn't understand but appreciated a lot, since it kept her from going through the embarrassing moment of asking Adora to zip up her dress– she noticed how uncomfortable she was feeling. And not only because of the dress. 

Catra was going outside. And she was meeting the Vallean society along with other archetypes, having to present herself as Adora's human for the first time. And she had ten years of prepping for this day, but she wished she had had more time to prepare, blessing and cursing Adora's way of announcing the event last minute: the fact that she had to go into ''action-mode’’ kept her from freaking out too much, but not having enough time to prepare was also the reason why she was now freaking out. Her dress was all black, as she was not sure if Adora wanted her to wear another colour, but the fabric had a glittery finish to it, discreet enough that one wouldn't notice it at first but couldn't keep their eyes from it once it was seen. And it was what motivated Catra to embroider little silver stars here and there on it, to add her own personal touch. _Black is a permanent classic, right? Even for aliens?_ She hoped so. 

Just as she finished pulling her hair up in a ponytail, Light Hope lightened the screen by the mirror to announce that Adora was waiting for her. She took a deep breath, doing her best to ignore the trembling in her hands and the pounding in her chest. Adora was wearing a suit, all-black as usual. The Vallean quietly stared at her for a few seconds then averted her eyes to the window, making the human feel over conscious about herself, hoping that at least she was in accordance with the dress code. 

''We should get going,'' Adora said, grabbing something by the desk. ''Uh, if you excuse me...'' She asked, holding something too small for Catra to immediately identify. She nodded her head and carefully and, if Catra dared to say, a bit timidly, Adora got closer and touched Catra's dress by the collarbone, pulling the fabric a bit and placing a small metal piece there. Catra averted her eyes from Adora's hand to look at her face, the closest it had ever been. She saw it when Adora swallowed as if she was wondering what she could say next to break this weird tension in the air. ''It's your ID pin... For the exhibit.'' 

It was nice to notice how subtly Adora started to communicate more, still with her usual way of just-the-bare-minimum and, sometimes, not communicating anything at all, but she was talking when she needed to, as opposed to her constant staring and hesitation when Catra first moved in. It was hard to pinpoint whether it was something related to Adora getting used to the fact that she would have to share her space with Catra or a matter of needing to. They stepped outside and Catra took a second to look around, too nervous the first time to actually notice anything besides Adora's looming presence and the fact that she wasn't at the Institute anymore. 

The house entrance was like everything else, sterile and well-kept, not standing out in any way from the rest of the neighbourhood. The automobile was waiting for them a few steps ahead, lights on and ready to go. Catra sat down inside it, noticing the bright panels and feeling the texture of the not-so-comfortable seat, watching as Adora selected their destination at the screen. The car moved so fast that everything was just a blur, making Catra regret looking outside, feeling a bit nauseated, which didn't go well with her already nervous state. When she hopped out of the vehicle, she needed a few seconds to centre herself on safe ground again, using the roof of the car to balance herself and immediately regretting it, as it was too hot to touch. 

''Ouch.'' She blew a bit of air on her hand while shaking it. 

''Are you okay?'' Adora asked, quickly making her way to the human. 

''Not really. But my hand is alright,'' she answered, blinking back tears. It was more from the shock than actual pain. ''Should we get going?'' 

''Yeah... Breathing?'' Adora asked a quirk undertone implied. 

''Too much, I think,'' Catra replied, noticing that she was audibly panting, which had probably started as a quick breathing back at the car. Adora looked around, then at the sky.

''Did you have trouble finding your dress?'' She asked, assessing the dress but avoiding any visual contact. 

''No, not really...'' Catra took a deep breath, closing her fists while sinking her nails against her palms, trying to centre herself. ''I mean, once I knew what I wanted to wear. Shouldn't we go?'' She pointed a finger to both of them, signalling their lack of movement ever since they got out of the car. ''I know how much importance Valleans give to punctuality.'' _Not that Adora is an example._

''There's still a few minutes left,'' She answered, with her hands inside her pockets and now staring at the big, square building a few meters away. ''Enjoy the silence while you can.'' And Catra obeyed complacently, using the extra time to control her breath as she counted the stars in her dress, emptying her lungs every three stars she found in between the folds of cloth. She didn't know how long they stayed like this, but she recounted the stars a few times before noticing that Adora was watching her, following Catra's movements of twisting her body around to see the sides and back of the dress. ''Shall we go, then?'' 

''Yeah.'' Catra felt considerably better, still buzzing in the back of her head, but she wasn't visibly nervous anymore and that would have to do because she wouldn't get any better. ''Time to pull the trigger.'' 

''I don't have a gun.'' 

''I'm glad to know that,'' Catra answered, smiling softly. Using expressions around Adora wasn't a good idea, apparently. The Vallean offered her arm and _that_ Catra could understand easily, carefully placing her hand around her upper arm, trying not to get too comfortable at the same time she was trying to look like they were intimate enough that a touch like this wasn't weird. Adora's arm was sturdy under her fingers, proving she was just as strong as she looked. _Not the time, Catra. Or the person! She is probably just tense. Because she can barely stand you, remember it?_

''Get ready.'' Adora warned, as she touched her hand against a reader, selected the number '1' at the _companions_ tab and a red laser did a quick job scanning the pin at Catra's chest. The door slid open and, with it, the noise from inside the place escaped, shooking Catra from her feet. A festival of sound and colour invaded her senses, exploding in front of her. She understood immediately why Adora wanted a few extra minutes outside, in the silence. But unlike Adora, it was her first time in a place like this, probably a golden chance, and curiosity had always been her best friend. 

There was a stark difference in between humans and Valleans and that was not only because of their heights, but the Archetypes' outfits all stood out. Eccentric colours, blooming layers, magnanimous structures crafted out of different fabrics. It was as if this was a rare opportunity for them to show off their craziest creations fashion-wise. Like all kinds of personalities were crashing and coming together because of the one interest they shared, in the name of art. 

''Adora!'' They heard a voice calling, an androgynous being presenting in front of them. It was clearly a Vallean but, if Catra had to guess, this one was a very out-of-the-norm one. ''I see you decided to _finally_ contemplate us, poor semi-immortal and mortal beings, with your presence.'' 

''It's nice to see you again, Double Trouble,'' Adora replied, using a neutral voice that didn't let any feelings out. 

’’ … And who we have here?'' They approached Catra, steepling their fingers together and evaluating her outfit. '' _Ah, ah._ She dresses the same way you would if you were human, Adora.'' And that wasn't much one could say without being explicitly disrespectful, but Catra knew her outfit had been reproved. She felt Adora's muscles getting tenser under her touch, probably a reaction to the _suggestion_ that Adora didn't dress well. ''But I see why you would arrive late.'' Double Trouble continued, taking a closer look at Catra's face and smiling in a way that made the human slightly uncomfortable. ''Her eyes are so intriguing that I see why one wouldn't want to take the attention out of them with a proper outfit.'' They held their hand up as if they was holding a champagne glass and toasting to the air after making a good point, walking away and fading to the background. Catra hated the way they talked, never referring to her directly. As if she was a thing, a wild being not used to civilization and proper communication. _The joke's on you because the Vallean you're talking to communicates like a caveman!_

''It's easy to guess why their name is Double Trouble,'' Catra said, receiving a startled look from Adora and fearing, for a second, that she had gone too far with her joke. But then Adora shook her head, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. _Yay._

A small robot started to make its way to them, with a tray full of actual champagne glasses (or what Catra supposed was champagne, because she didn't even know they had it at the Valleas.) When it got close enough that Adora noticed it and Catra had an arm extended in its direction, curious to taste whatever it was, she felt a careful hand touching her waist and moving her body away from the robot, that got the clue and turned around to another direction. 

''You do not want that,'' Adora commented, offering her arm again so Catra could hold it. They started strolling down in the direction of one of the paintings, Adora deliberately getting away from any crowds, not letting Catra see whatever was the reason for the grouping or why they were grouped in such a strange arrangement. They finally found a quiet corner, admiring an intricate tapestry work, with muted colours and tall-telling ludic figures stitched in impressive work. Catra barely noticed when she let go of Adora's arm to take a closer look, noticing a new detail the more she looked at it. When she was done analysing it up close, she moved a few steps back to see it in its entirety and noticed Adora wasn't next to her. She looked around and saw that the blonde one was encircled by a group of Valleans, talking excitedly with her as she looked a bit helpless with all the attention she was getting, but this conversation wasn't ending any time soon. 

Then, Catra took a decision that she knew she would regret later, but also aware that she would also regret it if she didn't do it. No wins kind of situation. Or she _could_ win if she were fast enough to escape and come back unnoticed. Looking at Adora and the non-ending talkers again, Catra took the chance. Using her short height as an advantage to walk around hiding behind Valleans, she went to the closest crowd, encircling another piece of tapestry, this one with bright and violent colours. She noticed that the diva couch – one had been placed in front of all the arts, she had noticed – was occupied by a male human, clad in a suit made out of sequins, laying in it with a flabbergasted expression. He had an empty glass in his hand, that was quickly replaced by a full one, while some type of device was attached to his chest, connecting him to a Vallean, that had some similar device attached to her temples. Catra knew enough to recognize it as the _Impressions_ device. 

''Ohhh,'' he murmured, as he tipped his head to the side and laughed a bit. It was as if he was stuck in a drunken state, admiring that tapestry. The Vallean opened a lopsided smile and the crowd cheered, eager with whatever was going on. Catra managed to pass through the crowd, using her small height as an advantage, in order to take a closer look at both the Archetype and its Vallean, trying to see how the _Impressions_ worked. The Vallean had glossy eyes as if she was stuck in some kind of euphoric state and the human, _oh damn,_ he wasn't much better. Despite his doped smile and relaxed position at the sofa, he looked weary, as if he had been there for a long time, or this wasn't his first time being used like this… _or as if he knew this wouldn't be the last time._ With this conclusion, Catra started to walk back, accidentally bumping against a Vallean that was behind her and, scared of their reaction with her lack of attention or care, she turned to the other side and ran away, bumping on a few more people on her way out. Which didn't help her case at all and, worse, made her even more nervous. Catra knew better than to cry in front of all these people, but she needed at least a place to sit down and hide her shaking hands. 

She knew one of those divas couches would serve her well now. Catra saw a tapestry with no crowds, walking fast to it in the hopes of sitting on the couch, but noticing that a human was laying there when she got closer, passed out on it for some reason and left alone to it. This was too much. She focused her eyesight on the tapestry, hoping the figures would calm her down, that analysing the technique used would serve her some kind of distraction. It didn't help her. It was as if the dark, sombre representations of her worst nightmares were put there specifically to torment her, making her deal with something she wasn't quite ready to. Taking a deep breath, she focused on her body signals. Catra was aware that her jaw was locked, hands fisted in an automatic attempt to hide the shakiness. Her breathing was loud too, the same way her heart was trying to break free from her chest. She was spiralling down as if she had no control of herself. Right when she needed to look her most upkeep.

Someone approached her, still a bit far away but close enough. Catra looked to the side expecting it to be Adora, but saw someone else instead, feeling a new wave of nervousness hitting her, hoping that at least the man didn't feel like talking with her. 

''This one is a very intriguing piece.'' He said, holding his hands at his back and sight fixed at the tapestry. Catra decided to look at it again, at least to not be seen as disrespectful, since her breathing was already loud. ''It's a bit like a feverish nightmare at first and, I have to admit, I almost ignored it when I first saw it. But it has layers...'' 

It was hard to pay attention to the conversation when she was in such a nervous state, all her strength going into trying to not look so distressed as she was feeling. It was twice as energy-consuming, as she had to focus on both trying to calm down and not showing all of her inner turmoil, at the same time her brain was making its best efforts to assure her that everything was going to get worse and that she shouldn't be there and that everybody was noticing her uncontrolled breathing and shaking hands. And ah, everybody is judging her stupid outfit choice. 

''You see,'' he continued, even after getting no answers. ''Just as the rest of the exhibit, this one follows a childhood-evoking aesthetic and the folk style just adds to the concept. To me, it's as if a child, tired of fearing the monster of their dreams, decided to befriend it. And goes on a trip inside the monster's world, all twisted and bad things. But now they both have a friend by their side – and don't fear or cause fear anymore.'' He pointed, and Catra, now trying hard to concentrate on what this singular man had to say and stare at the tapestry, in search of these peculiarities he was pointing out. The moment she saw it, she knew she had found it. Amidst of all the shades of grey used in the tapestry, there was a fine turquoise line, a bit hidden by all the other threads that came in after it, but it had this hopeful, heartening energy, and, taking one step back to admire the entire piece, she noticed how present this turquoise line was, as a surprising underlayer, as if this had been one of the first things the artist had weaved into the tapestry and then, as a sudden decision, decided to incorporate all the other dark figures and shades. She knew this wasn't how tapestry worked, but it was the best way she could explain it. The turquoise line resembled something like a small child, in a relaxed position, as if they were playing somewhere. 

It kind of reminded her of the sensation of playing hide and seek inside the Institute before dinner when she was a child. The day was almost gone, the house was dark and silent except for the fading sound of someone's piano practice and quick footsteps, Catra was hidden inside a dark closet. It was a bit scary to be alone like that, not knowing when she was going to be able to get out, her heart skipping fast whenever she heard steps getting too close to where she was, immediately followed by this bubbling need to laugh whenever she heard the seeker turning far away instead because some dumb kid decided to switch their hiding place and was spotted. She breathed out, slow and steady, then she breathed in. _Repeat._ The turquoise line, tying all of her thoughts for a moment. _One more time._

''Ah, you saw it, didn't you?'' The man asked with a soft, gentle voice. 

''… Yeah.'' Catra forced herself to talk, feeling as if her tongue was too big for her mouth and she was unable to formulate words. She thought about the texture of the tapestry, with its bumps and fluffiness. She didn't know of anyone that embroidered tapestry. 

''First time in an art exhibit?'' Now Catra was feeling the texture of her own dress, soft on her hands and contouring the stars with the tip of her nails, visualising them again on her head. They were fifteen and, by now, she already knew by memory where each one of them was placed. 

''Yes. Actually… First time out.'' _Fifteen stars, one, two, three, breath out. Four, five, six, breath in._

''Oof. That's tough.'' He commented, ''did you at least know what to expect?'' 

''No idea.'' She scratched her arm, more with the intent of having something to do with her hands than actual need. _Three, six, nine, twelve, fifteen._ ''I'm Catra, by the way.''

''I hope you feel a bit calmer now.'' And what an intriguing figure! Of course, he had realized Catra was distressed but had he approached her with the intent of trying to help? This was something unexpected. She looked at him again, noticing his warm brown eyes and sweet face, something about him immediately drawing her in. 

''I do. Thank you.'' She said, realizing that it was true. She still felt fussy, but now she had a bigger sense of control over herself. And also, she was extremely tired, needing to lay down more than never.

''I think someone is searching for you,'' he commented, after a quick glance somewhere behind Catra. ''You can refer to me as The Archer, by the way.'' With a cryptic smile, he turned his back and walked away, not giving Catra a chance to say thank you one more time. 

''Catra!'' She heard Adora's voice calling and turned, to see the Vallean a couple of meters away, coming fast in her direction. ''I thought you were gone.''

''How would I be gone?'' She replied, furrowing her eyebrows. She didn't even know at which one of the Valleas she was at, imagine running away.

'' … Ah, I guess you are right,'' Adora answered, after a bit of pondering. She looked a bit distraught. Maybe it was the number of people wanting to talk with her, requiring a piece of her attention, as if she was some kind of celebrity. Which she probably was, considering the entire party was using her invention. The Vallean offered her arm: ''I think it's enough for today. Should we go?'' 

''Yes, please,'' Catra answered, grabbing the arm and more than ready to leave. As they were making their way, the human saw a few more humans passed out on couches, and, very suddenly, she felt Adora's hand touching her back, leading her in another direction and, when Catra looked at her face, a charged glance was share in between them as if Adora was replying _I know, I know_ … At least it was what Catra hoped. 

The ride home was silent as always, both of them exhausted in different ways, but now sharing some kind of bond over their aversion for social gatherings. 

  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
